


Suzie Should Have Stayed Dead

by orphan_account



Series: The Telepath's Immortal [10]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Episode: s01e08 They Keep Killing Suzie, Fluff, M/M, Reveal, Telepathy, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 03:24:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10982340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Ianto, back from bedrest early, was immediately thrown into a new case. One surrounding someone that everyone in Torchwood, bar Gwen, knew rather well.Or, at least, thought they did.





	1. Kathy Swanson is a Goddess

**Author's Note:**

> i'm super excited for some of the later chapters in this fic, they'll be up soon and they're super cool in terms of some changes with ianto. i really can't wait :))
> 
> also, i know that this chapter is super short, especially in terms of some of my other works, but i didn't want to write any more of it because i'm lazy. so...yeah. i hope you enjoy

Ianto wasn’t good with bedrest.

It was torture; the endless hours spent with only his own mind for company, the only entertainment coming from books or mindless television. The sludge of reality TV was turning his brain to mush (at least, that was the excuse he would use to come back to work early. The real reason may have been Jack.)

The low hum of the Hub greeted him warmly as he entered through the cog door and Ianto smiled briefly at it, the grin widening when Myfawny screeched down at him from their perch above his head. If they were risking being quite so loud, Jack must have already been up. 

“Ianto?” the immortal called out, appearing from his office. His hair was delightfully tousled, Jack not having expected anyone in the Hub until later. When he saw his partner, he grinned, walking in long strides up to the telepath.

Ianto both did and didn’t expect the kiss that followed, but he squeaked happily all the same, wrapping his arms around Jack’s neck. His lips were warm and soft and delicious - Ianto pressed somewhat desperately against the other man, gasping against the other’s mouth as Jack swiped his searing hot tongue across his bottom lip. The sensation was addictive. 

“I missed you,” Jack whispered when he finally pulled away, his eyes bright and intense as they bore into Ianto’s own. The telepath chuckled under his breath, rubbing their noses together cutely and pressing further into the embrace.

“You saw me yesterday…” he murmured back, watching Jack smile before the expression turned to a faux sternness that had Ianto shivering slightly from something that definitely wasn’t the cold. It was true; Jack had spent most of his day at Ianto’s the previous day, wrapped around Ianto as they slept and shared lazy kisses with one another, lying in bed all day. 

“Yeah, I did. When you were still under orders to stay in bed. The bed that you are not currently occupying when you should be,” Jack berated. Ianto blushed brightly, trying to lean in for a kiss, but Jack stopped him with a finger to his pouting lips. 

“I was lonely,” Ianto replied, reaching his arm up to entwine his fingers with Jack’s. “The bed is cold with no one to share with.”

“I’ll keep that in mind in the future,” Jack said, smiling down at Ianto. He bent to press another soft kiss to the telepath’s lips, but the alarm signalling the cog door opening stopped them. Ianto, shyly, jolted away, shuffling his feet nervously as the woman behind the door walked purposefully out.

It was Gwen. 

Ianto sighed inwardly, not noticing Jack do almost the exact same. “Jack,” Gwen greeted curtly, a hard edge to her voice. She must be angry at him for something, Ianto decided, noticing that Gwen didn’t have any attention for him. 

“My friends from the police force,” Gwen began and Ianto almost snorted. Yeah, police ‘friends’. “They have a case for us. They told me last night.”

“Why wasn’t Ianto informed of this?” Jack asked. It would have made sense to tell Ianto first, given that he was still basically the police liaison, even though Gwen was the ‘official’ liaison. Whenever Kathy Swanson, who was probably the head of the case that Gwen was rabbiting on about, had to talk to Gwen instead of Ianto, the work that they did with the police department was always only mediocre.

“I don’t know, maybe because he has no friends in the police department? Maybe because I’m the police liaison? Does it matter Jack, as long as we have the information?” Gwen snapped, her arms folding her arms tightly against her chest. Her breasts spilled out of the cage her arms formed and Ianto’s lips twisted in disgust at the obvious way she still tried, even subconsciously, to seduce Jack. 

The immortal sighed, too tired with Gwen’s complaints to bother getting annoyed at them anymore. Silently, he motioned for Gwen to continue, although she was already speaking rather loudly again. “They didn’t really say much about it, but apparently there was a murder with two victims and some sort of message left for us. And you should thank me, really, that information took a lot of energy and persuasion to get.”

Jack grit his teeth, not bothering to speak any more to the Welshwoman. Ianto furrowed his brow, perplexed by the sudden 180 of Jack’s behaviour towards Gwen. In any other situation, they both would have been flirting and laughing and Ianto would get jealous and everything would end badly. Even so, the Gifted wasn’t all too pleased to see the dispute, no matter how much he disliked Gwen. 

The cog door alarm exploded against Ianto’s eardrums again and he glanced around to see Toshiko and Owen stroll in, giggling softly together about something. Evidently, they’d made up during Ianto’s time off work. “You two, meeting!” Jack called out to them, on his phone to Kathy Swanson already. He smiled brightly and charmingly despite Swanson not being able to see it, speaking lowly to the woman about the case Gwen had been talking about. 

Tosh glanced up at Ianto with a concerned expression, who shrugged, as if in apology for not staying off work longer to recuperate. She fell in line with him as they journeyed up the stairs to the meeting room. Jack was just about hanging up his phone when they left. 

“Okay, kids, we have a double murder on our hands,” Jack announced, a little less upbeat than he was usually, even though it was about something negative. Gwen must have made his mood plummet and Ianto shifted uncomfortably in his seat at the thought.

As Jack began to explain the case, as much as he could with the little information Swanson had given him, Ianto pressed up against his mind, smoothing the spikes of tension from Jack’s thoughts with a tender energy. Jack didn’t smile, not now that he was in the full swing of explaining the grizzly murder (well, he made a lot of it up, but he was the King of Hyperbole) but Ianto could tell from the burst of pleasure against the base of Jack’s consciousness that he was happier.

“Toshiko, Owen, Ianto, I want you to come with me to the crime scene. Gwen, you can stay here for experience with working the comms, you need it.”

“What?! My job isn’t with comms, I’m a field agent,” Gwen cried out, shooting daggers with her eyes at Ianto, blaming him for some inane reason. Ianto knew that Jack didn’t want to have Gwen beside him on the mission because of the current tension between the two of them, but he hoped that it was also because Gwen truly did need the training. 

“This isn’t up for debate, Gwen. You need the training to ever actually become a field agent, training that Ianto already has. You’re staying in the Hub,” Jack retorted in a low voice, one which demanded no contest. Gwen flopped back in her chair stroppily, a petulant pout on her lips. She was childish and angry, sure, but she wasn’t about to challenge Jack when he was the way that he was.

“What’s the real reason you’re leaving Gwen behind?” Owen asked when they were in the SUV, comms safely turned off so that Gwen couldn’t hear their conversation.

Jack sighed, knowing that it would eventually have come up. He glanced at Owen, who was expressionless, sitting beside him - the medic wasn’t as enthused with Gwen’s body after he had reconciled with Tosh (although the tech had made it clear, maybe not verbally, but certainly clear that she never would want Owen that way again.)

“She seems to think that me sending Mary into the sun was completely unjustified, despite me explaining that the situation really did require it. She’s been calling me a murder for the past two days, and I don’t think that that kind of attitude would work around two actual murder victims. Plus,” he added, “she does actually need the training on the comms. Ianto is a much better field agent than her.”

Jack looked up at the rearview mirror to scrutinise the lightly blushing telepath. “Speaking of, we should really check up on everyone’s training. We’re all getting a bit sloppy on protocols. No more putting yourself out on the firing line, Ianto. You’re Gifted, not invincible.”

Ianto smiled in answer and nodded, although they both knew that he would still risk his life for his family any day. The SUV turned a sharp corner and each member of the team grabbed ahold of the car door handle next to them, an unconscious movement by now. Aside from Owen’s occasional grumble, they’d all seem to accept that they would never be able to change Jack’s reckless driving. 

As they tore down the street that Detective Swanson had described, Ianto could see the woman come into view. They were somewhat familiar with one another, having liaisoned on many jobs together. Ianto had always thought that the woman was rather pleasant.

Her dark skin had a slight glowing sheen of sweat covering it, from the bright sunshine unusual for Cardiff and unfitting for the gruesome mess inside. Jack climbed out of the SUV, a pair of dark sunglasses, and approached the suited woman who left the SOCO she was talking to, to greet them as well. 

“At last, you must be Torchwood. My team bitch about you all the time,” Swanson muttered, hugging the file in her hands to her chest. “And you must be Mr. Jones,” she said to Ianto, her tone a bit brighter this time. Reaching out her hand, she waited for Ianto to smile warmly back and shake her hand. 

“Pleasure to finally meet you, Detective.”

“Detective…?” Jack asked, glancing at the woman through his sunglasses. Swanson sighed, knowing already that Jack was rather flirtatious (horrendously flirtatious). 

“Swanson. Detective Swanson,” she replied stiffly, shaking Jack’s hand too, although a bit more tentatively, as if she’d catch some sort of disease if she gripped Jack’s hand too long.

“I’m Captain Jack Harkness,” Jack said, trying to win Swanson over with his best charming smile. Personally, if it were a first meeting, Ianto would have swooned rather a lot, but Swanson remained stoic. There was something inherently strong about her that Ianto liked immediately - the way that she held herself and the wise depths of her eyes didn’t come across during phone calls. This was their first actual meeting.

“So I’ve heard,” Swanson replied, unimpressed with Jack’s flashy introduction. “Tell me something, are you always this dressy for a murder investigation?” The detective glanced Jack up and down, though not in the usual admiration Jack was used to. Even if they never did hit it off properly, Ianto was sure he and Swanson would bond over the way she seemed to be able to put Jack’s ego down a few pegs with a simple word or two. 

“What, you’d rather me naked?” Jack purred, a low hum that he reserved for those who were particularly hard to enchant (and occasionally, if they’d had a bad day, Ianto). He whipped his glasses off, treating Swanson to a better look at his azure gaze.

Again, she was completely unfazed.

“I’ve heard stories that you could control him, Jones,” Swanson sighed, turning to look pointedly at the Welshman. Ianto blushed slightly at the idea and shook his head, abashed.

“If only they were true, Detective,” Ianto murmured with a small smile. His grin widened slightly at the childish displeasure across Jack’s mind when Swanson smiled back, her pearly white teeth glinting dangerously in the sun. 

Scarily fast, they both slipped into work-mode. It was such a swift change in behaviour that Jack sometimes wondered how they didn’t get whiplash. “Who are the victims?”

“Yesterday, a man was murdered at 96 Oakham Street, Alex Arwyn, 28, single, estate agent…” she paused for a second, rifling through her files to hand Jack the right set of information. “Here we go. That's from the scene of crime; today, in here, we get two more. Mark and Sarah Briscoe, both 33, married. He's a surveyor, she works in education.”

The murder was brutal to say the least. Blood was everywhere and Ianto could tell from only the image that it was done by someone who knew the victims. Someone not necessarily close to them, but definitely someone who knew them. He glanced up at Swanson, who nodded sharply, appearing to have thought the same thing. 

“What about the smears of blood? Is that writing?” Jack asked, pointing to what seemed like the bottom end of letters at the very top of the photograph. Ianto noted it with interest, the peculiar pattern of crimson perking his curiosity in a morbid fashion. 

“Work in progress… Come inside and see the finished thing,” Swanson replied coldly, her eyes narrowing slightly. Obviously, the smears of blood had darkened her already bad mood significantly and Ianto couldn’t help but feel sick with anticipation as they were lead through the house to the bedroom.

“Jesus,” Ianto whispered, the stench of death permeating the very existence of the room. His mind was immediately bombarded with terrified screams, the last thoughts of Sara and Mark Briscoe - it was a new talent he’d gained, but it wasn’t as cherished as the others. Ianto knew he would never get used to hearing screams like that. 

Dipping out of his mindscape, Ianto fully took into the massacre before him. Both man and woman had their throats slit deeply, so deeply that if Ianto stood closer he could see their spines through their wounds. Blood had long since stopped gushing from the gap, but the remnants had spread and seeped across the once pristine sheets.

And then, in more blood, the letters spelling ‘Torchwood’ scrawled on the wall, above the shattered picture of the married couple. 

“Looks like someone wants your attention.” 

Ianto could tell from the sudden straight, squareness of Jack’s shoulders that the immortal already blamed himself for the murders. He just hoped that the self hatred would help Jack complete the case before any other murder occurred. 

“They’ve got it.”


	2. Kisses = Comfort

 The screaming was beginning to get to Ianto.

 

 It was strange to hear, to say the least - because he was simply reliving the last thoughts of Sara and Mark Briscoe, the yells were distorted and too high pitched. But the element of terror still remained strong in the tortured sounds, and every time another one of them sounded, Ianto shuddered slightly.

 

 Jack had noticed. 

 

 “We found a few of the killer's hairs from the first murder. Lab results should be in soon…” Swanson informed the immortal who hummed softly, too preoccupied in trying to soothe Ianto’s obvious discomfort with his own mind to answer as anything but vaguely.

 

 However, when Ianto’s mind burst sharply and tore away from his own, Ianto shuffling nervously and refusing to meet Jack’s eye, the captain knew that he had to get Ianto alone. That Ianto wasn’t okay.

 

 “Good. We'll need that. No if you could just clear the room, some of this equipment is strictly need to know.”

 

 Swanson nodded and began to leave, but paused at the door, hovering. She looked vaguely annoyed, but also seemed to be holding back her remark. Eventually, she said, “it was only a matter of time.”

 

“What was?” Jack asked impatiently, heart stuttering as Ianto swayed on his feet, almost falling over. The telepath was staring blankly, emotionlessly down at the couple’s dead bodies - the lack of response was beginning to seriously concern Jack. 

 

“Torchwood walks all over this city, like you own it; now these people are paying the price. Ordinary people, ripped apart, with your name written in their own blood. From where I'm standing, you did this, Captain Jack Harkness. You did it,” Swanson snapped before stalking out, a tenseness in her shoulders which betrayed her true feelings. She probably blamed herself as much as Jack for not being able to protect her citizens.

 

 Owen shut the door after her and was about to say some witty retort or another when Ianto dropped like a stone to the ground. Jack was by his side in a second, catching the telepath before he hit the ground - the force was too much though, and it sent both of them sprawling to the ground, Ianto grasping tightly at his skull and moaning slightly. 

 

 “Ianto?!” both Jack and Owen cried out, the medic racing over to his friend. A thin layer of sweat glistened across Ianto’s face and his expression was pinched and pained. “Tell me what’s wrong, tell me what’s happened, Yan,” Jack whispered frantically, stroking his fingers through Ianto’s hair. 

 

 

 The grip Ianto had on his own head loosened under Jack’s ministrations, but the pain obviously didn’t stop. Swallowing and almost choking on his own saliva, Ianto whispered in a low, shaky voice, “they were so terrified, Jack. They couldn’t stop screaming for each other.”

 

 “What’s he talking about?” Owen asked, worried rather a lot about Ianto’s mental state. Maybe the telepathy was getting to be too much?

 

 Jack furrowed his brow, confused for a moment before he realised that Owen didn’t know about Ianto’s ability to remote-read, or to glean particular emotions from a setting. He explained it shortly, watching as Owen became more horrified as the extent of Ianto’s Gift was further revealed.

 

 “So, he’s hearing and feeling their last moments?”

 

 Jack nodded sharply, glancing down again at a quivering Ianto as Owen swore under his breath. “Ianto, sweetheart?” The telepath seemed to jolt out of his own thoughts at the sound of the pet name. “Tell me how to help you. Tell me how to take your pain away.”

 

 Ianto whimpered, shaking his head. The pounding in his skull was ever present and the screaming hadn’t stopped, but he was sure that he could survive without Jack’s assistance. He was about to say just that when another explosion of pain jerked his spine in an agonising bend. Gasping, and succumbing to Jack’s quiet pleas to let him help, Ianto blinding reached out two fingers to Jack’s temple.

 

 Jack’s mind, when Ianto accessed it, was pleasantly cool, trickling over his own like caramel. He bathed in the feeling for a second before he focused on the part in Jack’s mind which hosted their Link. It was tangled up in Jack and Ianto’s own emotions, but the Gifted sifted through the thoughts skillfully and finally brushed properly against the Link. 

 

 Ianto was standing again by the time he released Jack’s mind. He wasn’t quite sure when he had executed the movement, but it didn’t matter as much as he had thought, what with Jack’s face (and Jack’s lips) being so close to his own in the position that they were in. “Better?” Jack asked, concern etched into his features. 

 

 A small smile graced Ianto’s face. “Yeah,” he murmured back, and kissed Jack, a small, chaste peck on the immortal’s lips before he registered again where they were. Horror washed over him again. “Would you mind if I went out?”

 

 Jack nodded and let go of the grip he had on Ianto’s waist. “Tell us if anything gets worse, okay?” he asked, refusing to let Ianto leave completely until the telepath reluctantly nodded - it was clear to every member of Torchwood that Ianto didn’t particularly like to appear weak or in pain in front of his team. 

 

 “There's no record of Mr and Mrs Briscoe on our database, nor yesterday's victim and no link between him and the Briscoe's, no connection between any of them,” Tosh’s voice drifted through the comms system, startling Ianto for a second before he realised what it was. Quickly, he turned on his little device, so that he would be able to speak into the comm. 

 

 Out of the corner of his eye, from where he was standing in view of Toshiko and the SOCOs on site, Ianto noticed Swanson being handed a small file, and going to stand by a patrol car to read it. Evidently, the same file showed up in the police database the next few seconds, because Toshiko said, “Jack, I've got the result on the killer's hair.”

 

 “Perfect, thanks, Tosh,” Jack said, and Ianto was joined a moment later by Jack and Owen. He tilted his head in greeting and followed his captain to where Swanson was standing, reading over the file. There was a puzzled look about her. 

 

 “Initial findings say: caucasian male, early 40's, smoker, drinks tequila. Doesn't match any DNA profiles. Only thing of interest is a compound we've never seen before,” Swanson announced, not bothering to look up as Jack leant against the patrol car she was resting by. 

 

 Owen smiled at the woman, who didn’t return it, and held out his hand for the file. Swanson seemed nonplussed as she unwillingly gave it to the medic. Immediately, the Welshman swore quite colourfully under his breath.

 

 “You recognise it,” Swanson stated and Owen nodded slowly, despite the detective obviously already knowing. 

 

 “ Uh oh, we're in trouble,” Owen groaned, glancing at the sky as if to ask ‘why?’ A voice on the comms line came through, quizzical and irritated that she’d been left out of the loop; “What is it, then?” Gwen snapped. Ianto had almost forgotten she was there and although he didn’t appreciate her downright childish, pissy attitude, he did wonder the same thing. 

 

 “Compound B67.”

 

 Jack cursed in the same way that Owen had. “You’re kidding?” Admittedly, Ianto felt the same way, but he didn’t say anything - he had recognised the compound almost immediately, and started speculating about the causation. He sensed Gwen about to ask what the compound actually was, but Owen answered the unspoken question.

 

 “Retcon. He’s got retcon in his blood.”

 

* * *

 

 The Hub’s atmosphere was dismal when they returned. It was mainly due to Jack’s negativity - the immortal’s energy always took up the entire room and when it was so low, the room always seemed darker and dimmer. 

 

 “Meeting in half an hour - Toshiko, I want you to try and find any link between the victims. Owen, I need the full report on the killer’s hair. Gwen, you’re police liaison, so contact the local constabulary and try and get the crime photos,” Jack ordered, barely looking over his shoulder as he stalked into his office.

 

 Tosh and Owen, understanding their leader’s need to be alone, or at least away from them, quickly adapted to the instructions, heading off to their respective workplaces with a knowing look shared between them. A moment after that look, their own expectations became reality. 

 

 “But, Ianto’s police liaison,” she cried out indignantly. Ianto rolled his eyes, beyond exasperated. One moment, Gwen was complaining that he was communicating with the police, and the next she was claiming it was still his job. 

 

 “It’s your job, Gwen,” he sighed. He anticipated Gwen’s retort before she said it, and replied to the unspoken words, “If it wasn’t your job, then what would you do here? After the case, Jack can talk to you about your role here, because you sure as hell don’t understand it.”

 

 With that, ignoring Tosh and Owen’s amusement in the background, Ianto strode into Jack’s office, closing the door sharply behind him. Jack smiled sympathetically at him as he walked round to where the immortal was sitting, leaning heavily against his desk; Ianto frowned, not seeing the usual shine of exuberance in Jack’s eyes.

 

 “You’re already blaming yourself, aren’t you?” Ianto asked, eyebrows furrowing in concern for his immortal. It turned to a sad sort of irritation when Jack adamantly shook his head. 

 

 “Blame myself for what?”

 

 “Don’t, Jack. Just don’t,” Ianto insisted, boldly taking Jack’s hand tightly in his own. The immortal’s entire body melted, and his face fell from the cocky grin he had worn a few moments ago. Ianto smiled sadly at the man, bringing his hand up to press feather light kisses to each knuckle. 

 

 “It’s not your fault, Jack. It’s not any of our faults. Okay?”

 

 Jack didn’t look convinced, but Ianto was finished with words; the mixture of upset because of the murders, frustration and Gwen and the guilt of not telling Jack about his increased powers caused him to simply give up on verbal communication.

 

 Kissing was arguably more pleasurable. It was hard and ferocious and a mess of negative emotions expressed through their liplock, but Jack responded beautifully, pulling Ianto down roughly to half land on the immortal’s lap.

 

 They were both gasping when they broke apart, their lips hot and reddened from the kisses.”Ianto,” Jack sighed, pressing their foreheads together and reaching around to put situate Ianto on his lap. 

 

 “It’s not your fault,” Ianto repeated, his breath mingling with Jack’s given how close they were. He stroked his fingers down Jack’s cheek, brushing the stray hairs from his forehead. They were being more intimate than they ever had been, but Ianto didn’t care. Jack needed the contact, and Ianto was all too willing to provide it, no matter how self conscious he felt straddling Jack’s thighs on the desk chair. 

 

 “But, it is Ianto. If not the murders...then you. I hurt you, I let you go into that room when I knew that those people had been brutally killed, when I knew you would get hurt-”

 

 “No! No, Jack, you didn’t know. I didn’t even know, and afterwards you did everything right, everything. You never hurt me. Ever,” Ianto interrupted, both upset and slightly flattered that Jack would care enough about him to think about his mental state. He kissed Jack again, chastely but sweetly. “You did everything right,” he reiterated once more. 

 

 Jack, finally, nodded. “Okay...okay,” he sighed, burrowing his head in the crook on Ianto’s neck. It made a change to their usual position, but Ianto relished the opportunity to comfort his partner in the way that really only he could. 

 

 They only spent a few moments more, curled up with one another, before forcing themselves to depart and head up to the meeting room.

 

 The others were already waiting for them. Jack couldn’t help but wish when he saw their faces that he was anywhere but there.


	3. Ain't No-One In The Mood For Gwen's Xenophobia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next few updates will probably be late. my brother just died. i hope you enjoy the chapter.

“B67, aka retcon, aka the magic ingredient of the amnesia pill.” Owen was at the front of the room, already having begun the meeting before Ianto and Jack had quietly arrived and sat down. It was evident that Gwen was still irritated and confused about the entirety of that morning, and Ianto sighed inwardly, preparing for a less than pleasant meeting. 

 

 “And this belongs to us. Whoever this killer is, it's someone we gave the amnesia pill to,” Gwen stated, watching Owen at the front of the room.

 

 “ Is he remembering he was a serial killer, or is he becoming a serial killer because of the Retcon?” Owen speculated, staring at the screen showing the molecular makeup of Retcon. Gwen straightened, up, gasping because of Owen’s drawled words. 

 

 “Wait a minute,” she said, glancing at Jack dolefully, as if looking for immediate sympathy from the immortal, “I’ve taken Retcon!”

 

 Ianto felt the urge to roll his eyes, but resisted it, barely. Jack seemed to feel the same way, because he smiled at Toshiko and Ianto, amused by Gwen’s fright. The technician beside him stifled a laugh - it was only natural want to laugh, of course. Out of the thousands of people that they had given Retcon to, none of them had ever developed murderous tendencies. 

 

 “Better stay away from sharp objects,” he joked lightly. Ianto grinned at the comment, glad to see Jack much better than he had been before. There was a brighter light in his eyes this time around and Ianto felt a spark in his heart that it had been himself who had given Jack that fire back.

 

 Trust Gwen to drag him back down again.

 

 “This isn’t a joke, Jack. People have been murdered and you’re joking around. I could be in serious danger!” Gwen snapped, once again, thinking about her own safety. Jack’s grin fell from his face.

 

 “No. It isn’t a joke - but you aren’t in any danger whatsoever,” Jack replied somewhat coldly, knowing that Retcon had been run through thousands of tests - whoever this killer was, it wasn’t just the Retcon that was causing their actions. It had to be something else, too.

 

 “Ianto, how many people have we given amnesia pills to?” 

 

 Ianto hummed under his breath, thinking for a moment before answering, “Two thousand and eight.” 

 

 “Maybe you should check that,” Gwen demanded and Ianto actually did roll his eyes that time. A flare of aggravation went through his and Jack’s Link, but ever the pacifist, he shook his head before Jack could retort something back.

 

 “We have two thousand and eight recorded cases...it’s the unrecorded cases that are the issue. All of us, bar Gwen, have the training to use Retcon, but I know that we don’t always record the people we give it to. It’s rather hard to get a name and phone number or address when you’re in the middle of danger.”

 

 “So...you’re saying we have possibly thousands more cases than what are recorded?” Owen asked and then smiled enthusiastically. “Hey, what if they all become psychotic?!”

 

 “Do you have to sound so happy?” Toshiko admonished rather playfully. Sensing a bickering match beginning, Jack interrupted; they didn’t need Gwen becoming more bothered by their behaviour. 

 

 “Gwen, narrow the list down to fit Swanson's profile - start checking them out fast as you can. You two,” he paused, pointing to Tosh and Ianto, “there's gotta be a link between the victims, find the link, find the killer, get to it. Owen, check out the safety protocols of Retcon again, I need to be absolutely sure there’s no reason it could cause mental damage,” Jack rattled off his orders, and stood, almost out the door when Gwen spoke again.

 

 He, at first, assumed it would be about the task she was given; hell, when he registered what she was actually saying, he wished it would have been that.

 

 “Jack, if there is a link then why don't we just ask the victims ourselves?”

 

 “Not the right time for a séance, thank you very much,” he replied, still somewhat puzzled about what she wanted him to do. She wasn’t suggesting…

 

 “The first time I met Torchwood you had that glove-” Gwen retorted, her brows furrowing. It was clear that she thought Jack wasn’t trying hard enough to help those who were still in danger from the murderer. 

 

 He and Owen shared a glance. “No. I don’t think so.”

 

 “Not after what it did to Suzie,” Owen added. He had cared about Suzie, at least, to an extent, and none of the team had felt all that pleased when they figured out the damage the glove had caused to her already fragile mind. The betrayal had haunted the team for quite some time. 

 

“It brings people back to life; just for two minutes, we could question the murder victims!” Gwen insisted, not getting the hint. Jack gritted his teeth, but Owen beat him, speaking first. His tone was gravelly and hurt - he had actually trusted Suzie, and to see how much the woman was like Gwen pained him. 

 

 “That's exactly what she said. She was one of us, we trusted her, and now she's dead because of that thing,” he snapped. Gwen narrowed her eyes, appearing unfazed by the comment other than the evident irritation.

 

 “The glove stays in the safe where it belongs,” Jack announced, and with that, the matter was, or at least, should have been decided. 

 

 It wasn’t, according to Gwen.

 

 “These murders are happening because of Torchwood. So Torchwood has got to do something,” Gwen whined, and Ianto rolled his eyes. Seeing Jack’s pained, exasperated expression, the Gifted decided to cut in.

 

 “No, these murders are happening because of whoever is actually committing them. If there hadn’t been Retcon in the killer’s hair, then we wouldn’t even have taken the case, do you understand that?” he questioned harshly, nervous about his outburst before he registered the more relaxed set of Jack’s shoulders. 

 

 “If we have the means, then we should use them - look, I don’t expect you to understand or care,” Gwen continued, barely even thinking about her words before she said them. Ianto felt the blood drain from his face - did Gwen just…?

 

 “The police don’t have the glove,” Ianto began, ignoring Gwen’s xenophobic remark (along with the enragement on his teammates’ faces), “and they manage quite well to solve murders just like these. We don’t need the glove.”

 

 “Jack, please! Can’t you see that using the glove is the best solution? Just once, please. Just so that we can understand,” Gwen sobbed, tears suddenly streaking down her face. It was an effective tactic and Ianto could see Jack’s resolve faltering at the sight of them. 

 

 It almost made sense, too. Just once...it wouldn’t hurt, would it? One time, would it become addictive? Would it change Gwen, or whoever was testing the glove?

 

 “Please...I just want one attempt. I need to understand, I need to know that I can help these people,” Gwen begged. Jack seemed to crumble at that, but he glanced at Ianto first, almost as if to ask permission.

 

 Knowing that Gwen would never back down anyways, Ianto nodded, and then it finally was decided.

 

 “Only once.”

 

* * *

 

 The body of Alex Arwyn was deathly pale - which, yeah, wasn’t too surprising. Ianto felt a pang at the sight of his corpse, knowing that he couldn’t have died a pleasant death.

 

 “Jack, you okay?” Gwen asked, watching as Jack paced around Alex’s body. He had been stoic and emotionless since they’d resolved to use the glove, so much so that even Gwen had noticed. 

 

 The immortal ignored her question. “There is one flaw with this idea. The glove never reacted to any of us,” he said, pausing in his strides to skewer Gwen with his gaze. The young woman shuffled, biting her lip nervously. 

 

 “Well...I haven’t tried it,” she said finally. Jack inhaled sharply and glanced quickly between the glove and Gwen. “Come on! Let me try it.”

 

 Jack glanced at Ianto once more for ‘permission’, and threw him a stopwatch. Ianto caught it deftly between his fingers, but refused to sway Jack’s judgement with a nod or otherwise. Jack seemed to make the decision pretty quickly himself - it was funny how much Gwen could change his opinion for him. 

 

 “Don't forget, the maximum resurrection time was two minutes,” Jack said, handing Gwen the ‘Risen Mitten’. “And that's only because Suzie had practise; the most we're likely to get is 30 seconds, ok?”

 

 Gwen seemed gleeful as she strapped the glove onto her hand. “Tosh, you ready?” The woman as watching from her desk above the autopsy bay. “Ready and recording. This man was victim number one, name; Alex Arwyn.”

 

 Gwen, following Jack’s unspoken instructions, placed her gloved hand on Arwyn’s forehead and closed her eyes. “The glove relies on some sort of empathy - like, compassion. You have to try and build a connection with the victim.”

 

 “So, just be myself?” Gwen smiled, glancing down at the body and the Risen Mitten and therefore not seeing Jack’s grimace. Slowly, she placed her gloved hand around the back of Alex Arwyn’s head and breathed in deeply. The effect was instantaneous. 

 

 “Help me, help me, help me!” Ianto started the timing. The beeping of the heart monitor beside him was loud in his ears. 

 

 “Alex, I need you to listen to me,” Jack ground out, trying to calm the frantically jolting man...corpse. Zombie? It didn’t really matter his status, because Ianto could already tell from Arwyn’s elemental readings that they wouldn’t be getting too much information from him.

 

 “Somebody help me!” Arwyn cried out again - the terror in his mind sparked again before falling to a dull, but constant buzzing. 

 

 “That’s what we’re doing. Alex. You were attacked. You know who it was? Who attacked you?” Jack questioned, leaning over to talk to the man. He was becoming aware of the beeping of the heart monitor and the cool metal resting against his forehead. 

 

 “Who are you? Where am I?”

 

 Jack didn’t answer, instead focusing on the time Ianto had given. He groaned, and was about to ask Alex again what he had seen when Gwen spoke, trying to reassure their victim, but instead effectively eating up the rest of their time. 

 

The heart monitor flatlined as Alex was choking out that he wanted his mother. That last burst of fear was all that was left of Alex Arwyn. 

 

 “He’s gone,” Owen muttered. It was clear that he was upset that the questioning hadn’t proved fruitful, even though it was evident that they’d probably try again, even if Jack had only promised one attempt. 

 

 “Let me keep trying…”

 

 “Gwen, he’s dead,” Owen reiterated, growing a bit tired of her constant whining. Just because he was shagging her, didn’t mean he had to like her. 

 

 “But I can bring him back!”

 

 “The glove only works once,” Jack said lowly, trying to calm the hysterical woman down. It didn’t seem to work, but as Gwen started to yell, Jack hissed in a tone with a dangerous sort of quality, “Gwen, look at me. He's gone.”

 

 The Welshwoman finally pulled away, but didn’t discard the glove. She already knew that she’d convinced Jack to let her try again. 

 

 “Amazing, she's a natural… 24 seconds,” Ianto admitted, somewhat begrudgingly. The easy banter that followed between himself and Owen seemed to lift the mood a smidge, which was really what the young Gifted was going for. 

 

 “I’m trying again,” Gwen insisted. Jack didn’t make any move to stop her. 

 

 It took only five minutes to lift the next victim up onto the table. He was a dark-skinned man, with dull, dead eyes and a yellowish tint to the whites of them. His cheeks held no dusting of colour telling of a man who was alive. 

 

 “Recording, victim number two, Mark Briscoe,” Toshiko called out from her station. Gwen swallowed thickly, hesitating for a moment before resting her hand behind the corpse’s head. 

 

 “Oh my god, I can feel him. It's like, it’s like a rope from my heart to the glove. Ahh, it's so warm…” Gwen moaned, ignoring Jack’s confused raised eyebrow. Did she have to sound like she was in a porno? 

 

Mark awoke, calm but puzzled. It was a breath of fresh air compared to their usual victims, but Jack knew that given some time to remember, Mark would become just as frantic as Alex Arwyn had. 

 

 “Hey there. Just look at me, look me in the eye. That's it…” Jack murmured in a low, soothing tone. Mark seemed to relax slightly as it washed over him, before the befuddlement set in. “Where am I?”

 

 “You've been hurt. We don’t have long, we need to know who attacked you.”

 

 “Is my wife alright?” Mark asked, breath caught in his throat. It was admirable how much he cared, or at least, had cared about his wife. Jack thought absently that he wanted that same amount of care laved on him one day before he noticed Gwen struggling with the glove.

 

“We're looking after her.” It was a blatant lie; Mrs. Briscoe was lying in their morgue, just as her husband would be in the next thirty seconds. Although it stretched Jack’s morals to lie to the defenceless man, he didn’t have the luxury nor the time to tell him the truth. Gwen was wavering slightly on her feet; he didn’t to move this interview along, or he would only have one more chance to get the answers they all needed. “Now, Mark, who was it?”

 

 “It was that man. He belonged to Pilgrim, he went to Pilgrim,” Mark answered vaguely, fear washing over his features as he remembered what had happened to him.  

 

 “What's Pilgrim?” 

 

 “Oh my god, he had a knife!” Mark cried out, twitching, almost in an attempt to run away from the memories.

 

 “No, Mark, he's gone. But we don't have long… quickly, what was his name?” Jack soothed, his voice still quick and interrogatory. They needed answers.  

 

 “Thirty-five seconds,” Ianto warned absently, attention mainly focusing on the tortured sparks of exhaustion coming from Gwen. The glove’s dark power seemed to have taken hold of her - Ianto had sensed the darkness within the tech when he had first touched it and received a massive wave of negative energy that had somewhat blocked all of his Links and Lines. It was a horrible piece of machinery and it was really taking it’s toll on Gwen.

 

 “Max - can't think of his surname,” Mark whispered quietly, eyes flicking backwards and forwards between the ceiling and Jack. 

 

 “Trying ‘Pilgrim’ and ‘Max’. Get a description,” Toshiko ordered, loud tapping sounding from above as she searched across every database in the country. 

 

 “You've got to give us something more so we can catch him.” 

 

 “There was, there was someone who knew him better… That woman… She was always talking to him,” Mark murmured, but as the glove started losing energy and Gwen started shaking with harsh bouts of exhaustion, the terror began to set in more.

 

 “What was her name ?” Jack asked, voice growing steadily more forceful. 

 

 “Where's my wife?” Mark sobbed, but Jack pressed again. His expression emptied in a sudden moment of clarity and he gasped out, just before he died (again), “Suzie!”

 

 A lot happened all at once in the next few seconds. Firstly, Owen swore very loudly. Secondly, Jack swore very loudly. The thing that drew their attention next, however, was the way that Gwen cried out and almost fell, only to be caught by Ianto. The Gifted tore the glove from her fingers and suddenly, she was back to full strength, standing easily on her own.

 

 Ianto, however, wasn’t in as good a state. 

 

 The smell of singed flesh rose from the burning wound on his hand where he had grasped the Risen Mitten currently residing on the cluttered desk beside him. Even before the frisson of electricity sparked up his spine and along his gangly, pale limbs, Ianto knew that he had changed form. 

 

 “Ianto? What’s going on? Turn around!”

 

 It felt good to be in his Gifted form, Ianto had to admit - but it didn’t stop his fear. He no longer looked human, and terror ran like tendrils across his body, tightening around his lungs and constricting his breathing at the thought of Jack and the others’ reaction. 

 

 Slowly, he turned. Jack swore very loudly, again. 

 

 Ianto’s entire eye was painted in a rich, electric blue. Darker tones stretched across the orbs, tones which darted around frantically, staring at Jack and Owen and Gwen - and then also, at Toshiko, who had appeared at the balcony of the autopsy bay when she had heard Ianto’s loud hiss of pain and Jack’s shouting. 

 

 The tones in his eyes weren’t quite pupils - they were far too mesmerising, flitting around the prison of Ianto’s eyes and then joining together. It was a tantalising dance that Jack was transfixed by for a second before his gaze travelled down Ianto’s body. 

 

 His hair had lengthened and thickened a smidge, navy blue shimmering instead of his usual black. A shock of paler than usual skin showed beneath the main attraction in this Ianto’s-True-Form exhibition - runes of varying shades of pale blue (the darker leading into his hairline and around his eyes, jaw, cheekbones) patterned Ianto’s face, and assumedly, the rest of his gorgeous body.

 

 “Ianto…” Jack breathed, not able to stop himself from taking a few steps forward to further appreciate Ianto’s beauty. It wasn’t until he noticed Ianto’s terrified expression and the way he hid his hand behind his back that Jack’s mind cleared. 

 

 “Show me your hand, Ianto,” he ordered softly. Ianto’s ‘pupils’ flexed and spun in his eye for a moment before he reluctantly complied. Jack was commanding Owen to see to him before he even took in the blackened, bumpy flesh.

 

 Owen seemed just as mesmerised by Ianto as Jack had been as he lead the telepath up the stairs of the autopsy bay, passing a silent, admiring Toshiko, and into the main Hub. He didn’t exactly want to fix up Ianto’s hand when the elemental was staring at a dead body.

 

 Jack hurriedly followed, but not before Gwen hissed, “Jack! You can’t go and see him, you shouldn’t have even let Owen be around him. Didn’t you see his eyes? He’s so...animal! You can’t trust him.”

 

 Jack didn’t pause in his ascent up to where Ianto was being treated, instead calling over his shoulder, “I’m not in the mood for your xenophobia, Gwen!”

 

 Ianto only seemed ten times more stunning when Jack saw him again. 


	4. This Chapter Serves to Show Gwen Fucks Everything Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for your condolences. it really means a lot. i know this chapter isn't too good, but i hope you enjoy it anyways

“The salve that I’m using to treat his burns is alien, so it’ll help him heal faster. But, honestly, I don’t think that he really needs it. The burn itself started at worse than third-degree, and now it’s appearing to knit itself back together. It’s quite extraordinary,” Owen explained as he dabbed the pale green salve onto Ianto’s burnt skin. Every so often, the telepath would hiss slightly and his ‘pupils’ would blow out and sharpen suddenly before turning to normal. 

“I’ll give you two some time alone. And Jack,” Owen murmured to the immortal as he passed, stopping his eager path towards Ianto, “be careful with him. Something’s different about him when he’s transformed. It’s not bad,” he added when he saw the look on Jack’s face. It wasn’t as if he was taking Gwen’s ‘warnings’ of all things to heart, but he could tell Ianto wasn’t the person that they knew. “It’s just different.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine. You’ll check on his wounds again later, to see if they’re healing properly,” Jack assured and broke free of Owen’s hold. The medic hesitated before leaving to help the others transport the body of Mark Briscoe back to the morgue. 

Subconsciously, when he saw Jack arrive, Ianto seemed to preen himself like a peacock or something. His ‘pupils’ swirled continuously as he glanced up at Jack and the runes decorating his face seemed to brighten, even the darker ones around Ianto’s eyes and hairline. 

“Office?” Jack offered, not waiting for a reply before he started walking to the room. Ianto followed dutifully behind him and when Jack glanced at the Gifted, he could fully take in the gracefulness of Ianto’s movements in this form. 

It took a moment of them both standing, gazing at one another, before Jack couldn’t stop himself from expressing his adoration for the telepath in his true form. “Oh, you’re absolutely beautiful, Ianto, so gorgeous. In every way...what could Torchwood have that you could possibly want?”

In his usual brash manner, Jack reached out to touch Ianto’s cheek, not expecting the telepath to recoil suddenly like he’d been hit. Jack was stung for an instant, but he tampered down the hurt, seeing the guilt on Ianto’s face. It had obviously just been a reflex...one which continued to keep happening.

Jack was about ready to give up after a few long minutes of tentatively reaching out and Ianto flinching away had provided no fruition, when his palm brushed against Ianto’s cheek. He’d barely realised he’d finally been allowed the contact, and came back with full force, stepping forwards into Ianto’s space without thinking about it.

Regretting it instantly, Jack opened his mouth to apologise when Ianto nuzzled slightly into Jack’s hand, a low almost purr-like sound emitting from the back of his throat. The kiss that followed was long and slow, Ianto drinking in the feather-light touches as Jack held him. He looked almost drunk, eyes half lidded and pleasantly languid.

Remembering Owen’s words from earlier, Jack cleared his throat quietly and broke the silence. “Is there anything...I don’t know, different for you in this form? Mentally, I mean,” he asked somewhat awkwardly. 

“My mind is one-track in this form...when I have a desire, the perception of it is explicitly apparent to me,” Ianto murmured. His words were more formal and halted and his voice deliciously deep and it sent a shiver down Jack’s spine. “I struggle to focus on other things, however, my level of power and control is increased tenfold.”

Blinking up at the immortal through his long lashes, Ianto said softly, pressing more into Jack’s palm, “And physically...touch is a lot more sensitive. I can get overwhelmed a lot easier...just in case you were wondering.”

God, the vowels dripping from his pretty pink lips were positively sinful. The innuendo behind his words wasn’t what Jack had been expecting from this new version of Ianto, but he didn’t necessarily dislike it. Like Owen had said, Ianto was different when he was in his true form, almost like his mind in that state was unused to conversation or interaction, especially with humans. 

“Jack! We think we have something on Pilgrim!” Toshiko called down, appearing from the conference room above. Jack groaned as she disappeared with a somewhat sheepish look, seeing that she had interrupted the pair. 

“Shall we?” he asked Ianto, smiling jovially. The telepath couldn’t seem to help but to smile back, his ‘pupils’ twirling and dancing in his eyes, the brightness of the orbs diffused by the dark flecks. It didn’t take long for them to make their way up to the conference room, but before they entered, Ianto halted quite suddenly.

“Hey, are you alright?” Jack asked anxiously, turning to face the Gifted. Ianto breathed deeply and slowly, as if he were about to talk; he seemed to think better of it and instead grasped Jack by the back of the neck and drawing him down slightly so that their foreheads were touching. 

‘You,’ Ianto said...but no, he wasn’t saying it, he was thinking it. He was communicating telepathically with Jack - the intimacy of the gesture wasn’t lost on Jack and he smiled despite his confusion.

‘What do you mean, me?’

Ianto licked his lips nervously, averting his gaze and kissed Jack softly and slowly. ‘You asked me what Torchwood offered that I could possibly want. You. Torchwood offers you,’ he thought at Jack, not parting quite yet from him. The immortal was about to say something, anything to express how much the statement meant to him, but Ianto shook his head. ‘I know, Jack. I can feel it.’

And almost as quickly as Ianto had pulled him aside, the telepath instantly pulled away, wordlessly entering the conference room. Jack was left alone in the hallway, his hand held quite ridiculously up in the air from where it had been clasped around Ianto’s waist. Toshiko’s warm greeting to Ianto in the other room pulled him out of his thoughts abruptly and he spun on his heel, walking into the meeting room. 

There was a strange, but tender look on Ianto’s face when he smiled at Jack as the immortal entered. His ‘pupils’ were sharper and more in focus - it almost seemed that his body was reverting back to its familiar form and Jack felt a pang in his chest. He’d miss it.

“Pilgrim; a religious support group, more like a debating society. Meaning of life, does God exist…? All that stuff. The point is it was tiny, more like a hobby, run by Mark Briscoe's wife Sarah. She had all that,” Toshiko paused for a moment, pointing to the stack of yellowish posters denoting the society, “stashed in a wardrobe, handwritten and photocopied. That's why I couldn't find any records - she wasn't even online.”

There was a particular disdain in Toshiko’s voice for someone obviously so detached from the internet and it caused a slow smile to spread across Ianto’s features. The tech noticed and grinned, although somewhat nervously - it was clear that she was unsure how different this version of Ianto was. 

“Wouldn't be our Suzie though. Wouldn't go for all that support group bollocks,” Owen muttered, tossing his sheet down onto the table. He had arguably known Suzie the best, at least, in terms of body, and it wasn’t all too nice to learn that ‘knowing Suzie the best’ still meant barely knowing her. The last he had checked, the ex-Second wasn’t at all religious, nor had any reason to go to a debating society, so Owen didn’t believe for a second Mark Briscoe was talking about her.

Still though...it would actually make sense. No other Suzie that they were familiar with was affiliated with Retcon; plus, it wasn’t like she was innocent. She had killed three people, surely she could be capable of...well, of doing whatever the hell she would be from beyond the grave.

“How would you know? I mean, were you friends? Any of you? Who was her best friend in this place?” Gwen asked (and asked and asked and asked). The look on her face spoke lengths of how much she disliked the fact that the team evidently didn’t necessarily ’hang out’ with Suzie. It was the same self-righteous attitude that she always had and they were all really getting sick of it. 

“Well, if she needed to talk maybe that's exactly where she'd go, a group of complete strangers,” Gwen continued on.

“Could be...you got a point, Gwen. Time we got to know our deceased colleague a little better,” Jack announced, his voice holding the same bravado as usual. Toshiko and Ianto both smiled fondly at it, Owen rolled his eyes and Gwen...well, Gwen caused trouble, as usual.

“Where are we going?” she demanded, really quite ruining the fantastic line Jack had left off with. The immortal seemed puzzled for a moment - it was customary for his team to simply trust in his actions and follow along, offering their own input if it were a massive decision. But, this was something exhaustively simple. Why would Gwen choose to cause discourse now?

“Er...there’s a storage facility about a mile away. It’s where Suzie’s stuff is kept,” Jack answered vaguely, still confused as to why Gwen was asking and standing so defiantly. 

Her intentions were then made clear. “So, we’re going outside. Where people are. And, what, we’re taking Ianto out with us too?” It was a desperate attempt, it seemed, to alienate Ianto from the team again. The telepath’s blank expression didn’t betray any emotion, but Jack knew that he was upset and befuddled.

“It’ll be fine. It’s dark and a Monday night - no one will see him,” Toshiko replied in a low voice. She was obviously angry at Gwen’s actions and moved subconsciously to protect Ianto from Gwen’s fierce glare. 

“And if somebody does? What-”

“Both of you, be quiet! Gwen, I have no idea what you have against Ianto, nor what you have against him in his non-human form, but cut it out now. And Tosh,” Jack turned to face both her and Ianto, his voice much tenderer, “we can’t afford to explain to the police or anyone else asking why Ianto does look the way he does. Unless you can change back immediately, Ianto, I don’t think you can go.”

The Gifted nodded in assent. “My transformation was triggered by pain. I can’t force it away - being in this form allows my human form to heal properly,” he explained quietly, much to the interest of his Linkmates. Owen looked ready to spring a thousand tests and questions on him, but Jack interrupted him before he could start.

“We’ll be back before you know it. Maybe try and get some rest - if it really is Suzie who’s involved, we’ll be very busy tomorrow.”

Ianto didn’t seem impressed with the advice to sleep, but he nodded his head again, ignoring the both pettily smug and kicked-puppy look on Gwen’s face as she passed, following after the retreating team to view Suzie’s life again. 

-

Jack looked stressed, to say the least, when Ianto walked into his office bearing the gift of steaming coffee. Glancing up at the sound of the closing door, Jack smiled just barely, and shifted around from behind his desk to greet Ianto. 

There was a Pilgrim flyer on his desk, one which was older and slightly damp. “She was a part of Pilgrim. Definitely,” Jack sighed. It was so very and painfully clear to Ianto that Jack blamed himself now more than ever for the murders - after all, it had been him, with no other input, who had hired Suzie. 

“Yeah, I guessed,” Ianto murmured, handing Jack the coffee. The immortal smiled tiredly as he sipped it, turning to set it aside on the desk after a long drag.

“Gwen said that we should bring her back,” Jack mumbled, folding his arms in sad irritation as he thought back on the long argument. His anger during it must had been what had caused Ianto to come up from his Archives in a bit of a flustered mess, given how scared he was for Jack and the darkness clouding his mind. “I said no, that we should decide as a team, if we needed the discussion at all. And she’s obviously not too happy.”

“You did the right thing, Jack, stepping up to her like that. She has to learn that she isn’t in authority here and throwing a tantrum won’t ever make it go her way,” Ianto reassured, gently pressing a stream of the adoration he felt for Jack through their Link.

“You’ve almost changed back completely now,” Jack pointed out, for lack of anything else to say. It was true - all that remained of Ianto’s true form was the fact the whites of his eyes had veins of blue that crawled up into his iris. It was still just as mesmerizing to see Ianto like this.

“Mmhmm...you miss it?” Ianto teased with a small smile. He hoped that the easy banter would lift Jack’s mood.

“I’d like you in any form at all, Jones, Ianto Jones,” Jack purred, slipping one hand up Ianto’s arm to rest and cup his cheek. It was a similar gesture as earlier and Ianto blushed, pressing into it the same way as he had done before.

“Do you want to…” Ianto started, but he trailed off nervously. when he looked up at Jack’s expectant face. “Never mind,” he finished lamely, shuffling away from Jack. He was planning to head to the door, to leave and forget about the awkwardness of the moment, but Jack held him insistently back.

“Tell me,” the immortal demanded, stepping up into Ianto’s personal space, an arm wrapped tightly around his middle and another hand on his hip. Eyelids fluttering closed, Ianto sighed in pleasure at the contact. His sensitivity to touch hadn’t quite faded yet either, just like the colour in his eyes.

“It’s just...are you, er, free some time? Like, on the weekend, maybe. You know, to meet up...as in, a date,” Ianto rambled, overly nervous at the prospect. It had been rattling around in his head since their last date, the urge to go on another and another and another, but he hadn’t had the courage to bring it up with Jack until then.

“I’d like that,” Jack murmured softly, effectively soothing Ianto’s nerves. “Tonight works, if that’s okay. I know we’re in the middle of a case, but…”

“You could come over to mine. Watch a movie, order in,” Ianto proposed and Jack nodded eagerly. “That way we can get to the Hub pretty easy if Tosh or the others need us. I think she’s working late anyways, so it’s not like the Hub would be completely unoccupied.”

“Everything just fits together, doesn’t it?” Jack chuckled and then turned, reluctant to lose his grip on Ianto’s waist but having to to grab his coat. He held out his hand for Ianto to take, knowing that the telepath would feel more comfortable holding it now that only Tosh remained in the Hub. 

They were laughing as the made their way out of Jack’s office. “How do you feel about Chinese?” Ianto asked Jack once they had made their way to the garage and were sat in Ianto’s car. 

“Perfect,” Jack smiled. “Everything is perfect.”


	5. Le Date (sort of, it's interrupted, we hate Gwen, Jack wants to believe her excuses tho, idk man)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is so much shorter than what i usually write, but i figured it was a good place to end. i was also going to write about jack and ianto's date, but they'll be going on another one soon, so i fgured it might be overkill to write a date twice. 
> 
> also, if any of you are interested in either shadowhunters or the flash, i'm planning on starting two series for those shows (with malec and coldflash). they're not out ad of now, but should be in the coming weeks (after i've planned them extensively, haha)
> 
> so, because of those series, updates for the telepath's immortal may be slightly later (hopefully i'll still get out a chapter a week, after everything in my life has cooled down a bit tho). 
> 
> hope you enjoy :))

The date had gone perfectly. They’d watched old spy flicks, eaten incredibly greasy Chinese food and Ianto had fallen asleep on Jack’s shoulder. He’d carried the surprisingly hefty telepath to his bed and then slipped into the sheets after him, content and secure enough in their relationship to cuddle up to the other man. 

It was perhaps the perfect date that had made Jack assume that the next day would go past without a hitch and he’d go onto his own personal mission - ‘Mission Properly Woo One Such Ianto Jones (along with going on dates that weren’t only spent at home or interrupted by strange alien creatures)’. 

But, no such luck. 

His phone, or more specifically, the phone’s high pitched alarm signalling a call, woke the both of them up. Ianto groaned pitifully and curled into Jack’s warm - and bare - chest, hands nudging around the other’s waist as if to coax Jack into staying. Jack tried to shift over and Ianto whined, wrapping his legs around Jack’s. His immortal had to suppress a chuckle at the evident pain on Ianto’s face. 

“I know, darling, I know. Give me a moment, I’ll turn it off,” Jack soothed, pressing a fond kiss to his partner’s scrunched up forehead. Ianto was quite adorable and Jack found himself an immediate fan of the sleepy, half-awake version of him, the early - very, very, very early - morning sunlight filtering in through the curtains behind him and lighting up every bit of exposed skin. He looked like he was made of glowing marble.

“Harkness,” Jack snapped into his phone, having pulled his gaze away from Ianto’s body long enough to accept the call. When he heard Toshiko’s frantic, furious voice on the other end of the line, his heart stopped. 

“Jack, Gwen resurrected Suzie,” Toshiko grit out through clenched teeth. If she held her jaw any tighter together, she’d be likely to break a tooth. “You left the glove out on your desk, she must of seen it. Says that she felt a pull towards it, couldn’t stop herself from what she was doing.”

“Jack?” Ianto murmured, fear creeping into the edges of his voice. Their Link was growing heavy with deep-set anger, frustration, confusion and it made the Gifted feel more vulnerable than he’d care to admit. 

The immortal glanced at him, and began to run his hand through Ianto’s hair. Calming slightly but still not relaxing physically, Ianto leant into the touch for a moment and then shuffled up the bed to lean against the headboard. His piercing gaze was fixed on Jack. 

“How’d she get past you?” Jack asked Toshiko who seemed upset by the question.

“I’m sorry, I am, I fell asleep, I didn’t mean-”

“Tosh, don’t worry. It’s not your fault. Besides, Suzie’s dead again, isn’t she? No harm done,” Jack tried to comfort but the resulting silence had him worrying more. Tosh didn’t really seem to want to confess to the full situation at the Hub, but she figured she’d better. 

“Suzie won’t die again. Jack... I think it’s permanent this time.”

-

They dressed rather haphazardly after that, into Ianto’s car in less than five minutes. Jack insisted on driving, filling Ianto in on the details as they reversed away from Ianto’s home. “Gwen says that she felt some sort of pull to the glove, that she couldn’t stop herself from using it.”

Ianto was silent for a moment, fiddling nervously with his fingers. On the subject of Gwen, he was never sure what he could say to Jack - he’d always been awfully protective, he supposed, of the young Welshwoman. He had always treat her differently from the rest of the team. 

“Do you believe her?”

Jack didn’t seem offended by the question. Instead, Ianto got the impression he’d been thinking about his answer to that question for a while. “I want to. I hired Suzie without anyone’s input, and I hired Gwen without anyone’s input. It seems everything goes wrong when I do it on my own. I just… I don’t want the team to be put in danger again for my own actions.”

“Jack,” Ianto whispered, heartbroken by Jack’s confession. Sometimes he forgot how broken the man was, given the strong, cocky mask he tended to wear, but seeing Jack like this, with the sagging shoulders and tired, tired eyes, reminded him completely of everything (everything that he knew, at least) that Jack had been put through. 

“Do you believe her? You did always say the glove had a certain darkness about it,” Jack asked abruptly, knocking the conversation away from himself. Ianto noticed the coping mechanism, one which was typical for Jack, and accepted that he wouldn’t be getting much more out of Jack any time soon. 

“It makes some sense that the glove could have influenced her decisions - her mental walls are very weak, it would be horribly easy to manipulate her telepathically...I’ve just never picked up on a telepathic element to the glove or its functions. I want to believe her too, I really do...but she’s done stuff in the past that are like this. Gone against your orders, undermined the rest of us...plus, she’s horrendously xenophobic.”

“I know. And you don’t deserve that, Ianto,” Jack sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in between two fingers. Everything about this situation was far too stressful. “I just hope we can change her before it’s too late.”

Ianto shifted uncomfortably in his seat - judging by everything Gwen had done and felt in the past few months of working with Torchwood, she wasn’t going to stop with her behaviour. It hurt to know that Jack still tried to see past all her flaws, but he had to one day admit to himself that he was always the second choice. 

“What’s the plan, anyways? Tosh said she’d checked every life support or monitoring system we have and she’s definitely alive,” Ianto asked, his tone a touch too depressed in Jack’s opinion. The immortal was about to ask if he was okay but he changed his mind - Ianto was important to him, so important, but they were in the middle of a case.

‘That didn’t stop you from going on a date with him,’ a voice in the back of his head (definitely not Ianto’s) mocked. Jack shoved it away.

“I don’t know. Question Suzie, of course. I don’t think that we should risk sending Gwen home yet until we’re sure the glove didn’t change her in some way. And then, try and figure out who our killer is…” Jack hesitated for a moment, glancing over at Ianto, who was expressionless as he listened. “And after that, we could maybe finish off our date?”

“Last I checked, it was finished,” Ianto muttered, immediately regretting it. He hadn’t meant it as harshly as it had come out, he was simply wrapped up in the negative, doubting emotions coming off in strong waves from Jack. The immortal was stung but undeterred and Ianto was glad he hadn’t knocked his teammate’s confidence. 

“Well, a real date, maybe? I want to take you out for dinner. I want to...I want to make you feel special. Because you are,” Jack said in a near silent whisper. A high blush rose and started to stain Ianto’s cheeks. 

“Th-that sounds...really, really nice, Jack. I haven’t ever been properly wined and dined before,” Ianto murmured, tentatively reaching out to where Jack had rested his hand against the clutch and squeezing his fingers reassuringly. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Jack’s poorly hidden beam. 

The mood darkened dramatically when they entered the Hub. Toshiko was standing, leaning against her desk. Her gun resided on it and every so often, Gwen, who was sitting limply on a chair in front of Tosh, glanced nervously at it before her gaze returned to Toshiko’s hard glare.

“Where’s Suzie?” Jack barked, effectively alerting them of his presence. Gwen flinched at the loud sound, her eyes settling on Jack first and then on Ianto behind him. Her eyebrows furrowed, as if puzzled as to why Ianto had come with Jack.

“She’s down here!” Owen called out from his lab. Suzie, eerily familiar but completely bloodless and with a massive bullet wound in her head, lay, seemingly lifeless, on the table. It was a disturbing sight to say the least. 

“Has she woken up yet?”

“Only when the glove was first used. Her vitals all read as a normal human being, although her heart rate is a bit slow. When she wakes up, she’ll be really weak,” Owen explained, walking up the stairs from the autopsy bay. 

“And it’s definitely Suzie? Not some, I don’t know, shapeshifter?” Jack asked, desperation creeping into the edges of his voice. He didn’t want Suzie alive and kicking again, nor anywhere near his team. 

Owen grimaced and was about to answer when a garbled, terrified scream sounded from the autopsy bay. Suzie was awake.


	6. Suzie's a bit of a bitch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know, my updates are so irregular. i'm trying to update at least once a week and i might come up with a date (like thursday, maybe?) but idk
> 
> anyways, i hope you like this chapter, it's much longer than the last one and i think it's better, but idk (again)
> 
> also, side note, i had no idea how to end this chapter, so it's a bit shit, okay, byeeee

“This isn’t my fault!” Gwen cried out, possibly for the hundredth time. Jack sighed and nodded, not in agreement but rather to try and sedate the woman. As he had told Ianto, he wanted to believe Gwen and to a degree, he did, but with how she was constantly trying to defend herself aggravated him.

“Yes, you’ve mentioned. But it doesn’t change that we can’t let you leave until we decide what we’re going to do with you. Ianto needs to take your mental readings to make sure the glove didn’t permanently affect you...or affect you at all.”

“And if he gets it wrong? He thinks I didn’t get controlled? You’ll fire me because of Ianto?!” Gwen asked, and Jack’s eyes narrowed in anger. Was this how she always treat Ianto, or was it true, and she was being affected by the glove?

“Look, it doesn’t matter,” he decided finally, and motioned vaguely to the rest of the Hub. “You’re definitely staying here for now, whether you like it or not.” It was time for Jack to take charge - he was the leader of Torchwood and as Ianto had said, Gwen undermined the rest of his team too much. 

Gwen grit her teeth, about to snap out another protest, but the look in Jack’s eyes made her pause. She nodded a tiny amount, and got up, headed for her desk. Jack stopped her. “What, are you not gonna let me work?”

“No. That information is classified,” Jack replied shortly. It was protocol in situations like this, whether he trusted that particular person or not. He’d have done the same thing for any other member of the team, but Gwen seemed to think she was being specifically targeted. 

“But, I work here!”

“You’re under investigation as of right now. So, no. You don’t work here anymore, not technically. After we’ve finished questioning Suzie, you’ll be put in the interrogation room with her. We can’t have you up here, we can’t send you home and we’re not keeping you in the cells. Suzie’s too weak to do anything anyways, there’ll be no cause for concern if you’re in there,” Jack explained, watching as Gwen’s expressions changed from outrage to doey-eyed blankness. 

Jack almost rolled his eyes, but resisted. Gwen wasn’t going to change his mind so easily again. 

“Ianto! Do you have those Pilgrim files ready?” he called out, ignoring Gwen’s audible pout. She sat heavily back down in her desk chair, not making a move to log in to her computer. Obviously, she’d taken Jack’s words to heart.

“Er...yeah. Yeah, just about. Do you want them now?” Ianto shouted back, appearing from Jack’s office with a bright, reassuring smile. It warmed Jack’s heart a smidge, brightening his mood after that argument with Gwen.

“We need to figure out who this Max character actually is, and also who the next victim may be. How did you figure out who attended?” Jack murmured, catching Ianto by the arm and pulling him across the Hub to the interrogation room. They paused at the stairs, glancing down at the window panel looking into the room. It was both fascinating and eerie to see Suzie sagged in a wheelchair down there. 

“Tosh figured it out - Suzie always asked for Tuesdays off, and she, the Briscoes and Arwyn always booked a meeting room in the same hotel on Tuesdays. We just referenced it with everyone who booked the room at the same time on that day.”

“Clever,” Jack praised, his hand absently grazing across Ianto’s back. He turned on his heel, mentally preparing himself to interrogate Suzie when Ianto grabbed him by the shoulder. 

 

“Jack...I won’t be able to get any reads from her, not if she’s technically deceased. I won’t be much use to you in there,” Ianto explained. He was still full of self doubt considering the way Jack had treat the situation with Gwen, the way he still forgave her despite the way he seemed to also try to maintain protocol. 

“It doesn’t matter. You’re an intelligent person and you’re good at your job - it doesn’t matter that you can’t use your powers, because I can’t use telepathy either and I can still question people,” Jack soothed, but it didn’t seem to reassure Ianto, who glanced away. Jack slid his hand up to Ianto’s elbow, pulling him slightly closer which had Ianto blushing shyly - h wasn’t quite yet used to physical contact where the rest of the team could see them. 

“I want you there,” Jack murmured softly. “Even if you don’t think you’re useful, you’re rather good for moral support.”

Ianto paused, somewhat stunned at the brightness in Jack’s eyes as he spoke, the spark in the Link that wasn’t what it used to be. He wasn’t given too much time to think about what that particular spark meant because Jack was pulling him down to the interrogation room.

Suzie didn’t even look up when they walked in. “How long’s it been?” she asked tersely, exasperated to say the least. Jack sat down across from her, spreading out the files that Ianto had given him - Ianto waited, leaning against the wall behind Jack in a semblance of suave comfortability.

“Three months,” Jack answered, trying to be kind for a moment. He still held the hope that Suzie was the same person that he had hired, the same person that he had trusted. 

“Can’t I die? I just want to go…” Suzie half-sobbed, half-sighed. Her head lolled to the side, her eyes shutting weakly; the entry wound of a bullet was visible under her chin. It was surrounded by tendrils of scorch marks. “Can’t you leave me alone?”

Ianto almost wanted to feel sorry for Suzie, but the absent memory of her shooting Jack still hurt, badly. “You seem to be stuck,” Jack replied and the was a certain aspect of Suzie’s surprise that irked Ianto. 

“But, am I going to stay like this? For how long?”

“We don’t know,” Ianto answered instead of Jack, which drew Suzie’s attention. She’s been fixated on the obviously quite interesting floor until then, and hadn’t seemed to quite realise Ianto was in the room. She smirked darkly and Ianto felt a chill go down her spine - she never had liked Ianto and it showed in her features.

“Ah, Ianto. Still here? You know, I figured Jack would have gotten tired of your constant pining and fired you. But, I suppose he must like you being so very loyal,” Suzie mocked and Ianto tensed at her words. A spur of confidence went through him and he smiled slightly. 

“I may be annoying, but at least I don’t have a bullet hole in my head,” he said, smirking at Suzie’s obviously upset reaction. Her death seemed to be a bit of a sore subject. 

“Look, right now we have an investigation underway. Pilgrim. You visited these Pilgrim meetings, gave an amnesia pill to someone called Max. How do we find him?” Jack questioned, sensing a particular recognition in Suzie’s gaze. Still, she didn’t look up at the photographs spread out on the table. 

“What for? What did he do? He was just an ordinary bloke,” Suzie said, puzzled and tired already of the interrogation. Jack persisted, of course - his talent for leadership and control over a situation always shone through in times like this. 

“We think the retcon triggered a psychosis. He’s started killing,” Jack explained lowly, searching for a sign in Suzie’s action that would prove her a suspect more than the current evidence already did. He didn’t want to think about the repercussions of the retcon itself being the cause of the psychosis - not only because of the danger it would cause, but also because of the amount of vetting it would have to o through again before they could use it. 

“How many victims?”

“Three. Same as you,” Ianto answered, feeling sickly satisfied at the spark of anger behind Suzie’s gaze. A large part of his urge to hurt Suzie was due to the way she had betrayed the team’s trust as well as the fact he himself had trusted her despite knowing there was a certain darkness about her.

A crackling of the intercom sounded before Owen’s voice came clearly through. “We need to know, how much retcon did you give him?” Suzie smirked.

“Owen, hello. Scared to face me?” she mocked and Ianto sensed a slight twitch of anger in Owen’s mind. They had all felt betrayed by Suzie and with Gwen having revived her during she a stressful time, emotions and tensions were running high. 

“You frighten the shit out of me, yeah.”

“What about Toshiko? She still here?” Suzie asked and there was a moment of silence as Owen contemplated telling Suzie. Tosh was the most scared of Suzie, especially considering how close she had been to her everyday life and the threat she had posed without her even knowing. Tosh’s entire existence was based on her knowledge and not knowing the secret of a woman who she saw almost everyday frightened her considerably more than the aliens she had to deal with. 

“Yeah, she's here,” Owen sighed. “All the gang. Happy days. The amnesia pills, how many did you give him?” 

“One a week, every week for two years,” Suzie answered and Ianto swore loudly under his breath. No wonder Mark had had such a reaction. 

“What the hell did you do that for?” Jack snarled, causing both Suzie and Ianto to flinch. He wasn’t used to that type of sound to come from Jack, not used to that sort of anger. But it made sense - although they’d only been viewing Mark as the perpetrator, he was also a victim. He had been an innocent man and surely that was all Jack was thinking about. About how he should have, he could have stopped Suzie from overdosing him. 

“I wanted someone to talk to. About this place. It was driving me mad. He was just, he listened that's all, he just listened. Every week as soon as I'd finished talking I'd give him the pill.”

“You overdosed him.”

“I didn't know that,” Suzie hissed sharply, tring to defend herself. She reminded Ianto suddenly of Gwen. “Keep getting it wrong, don't I? Is that why you brought me back? Did you think I wasn't guilty enough?”

“You can’t just say that you’re guilty. It doesn’t stop those three people from still being dead. You murdered people and you caused him to murder people - if he had gotten caught by the police, you’d have put him in prison for life,” Ianto said, eyes half shifted into his Gifted form. He always struggled to contain his true form when he was so very angry and upset. 

“I told you. I didn’t know,” Suzie repeated and Jack shook his head sharply.

“No. You don’t get off that easy,” Jack chuckled humorlessly. Ianto could already see by the low, drooping set of his shoulders that he was blaming himself for the murders, that he was guilt ridden even more than usual. His brow furrowed and slowly, not wanting to overwhelm Jack, Ianto pushed a wave of soothing energy towards his partner. 

Jack twitched slightly, the tendons in his back jumping under Ianto’s ministrations. The telepath was scared that he had somehow damaged Jack’s mind for a moment, but Jack relaxed. Suzie didn’t notice, too invested in looking down at the photographs down on the table. Ianto noticed, though, and smiled slightly, despite his confusion once more at what their Link was turning into. 

“Now hold on, there's someone missing. This girl came every week, student, blonde; she's not in these photos,” Suzie murmured. Jack and Ianto immediately snapped back to attention. 

“Who was she?” Jack asked. His voice was tinged with the remaining irritation at Suzie, but it was more comfortable, more like his usual cocky self. 

“Lucy, Lucy McKenzie. Said she worked at a club…” Suzie muttered, thinking hard. Her eyelids drooped, shoulders shuddering. She did have a bullet hole in her head, so it made sense that she was so weak and exhausted, but they still needed the information. 

“Which one?”

Suzie’s head lolled to the side - she was half-passed out in her wheelchair and it was both frustrating and a cause for pity. “Come on, Suzie, which club? For god’s sake, Max is killing every single member of Pilgrim. Now, tell me; Lucy McKenzie, where did she work? Which club?”

“The Wolf. The Wolf bar,” Suzie whispered.

Ianto and Jack shared a glance before the telepath left the room, already working on trying to find ‘The Wolf’. It wasn’t a bar he was familiar with - he certainly hadn’t attended, but he remembered seeing it at least once when out with his old university friends. 

“Have you heard of it?” Ianto asked Toshiko, who was already searching on her computer for the bar. 

“No...but, the internet definitely has. It’s actually near the Kraken, the bar that your friend from uni works at. Big punk scene,” Toshiko murmured, turning her screen to face Ianto. He leant across her desk, scanning the information and pictures on the site. It did seem to have a big punk scene - everyone on the banner of the website had piercings and tattoos, some of which were similar to Ianto’s runes. Some were really quite attractive, and Ianto would have considered getting one himself had his Gifted form always healed his scars when he transformed.

“Is this the bar?” Jack asked, suddenly appearing behind Ianto, a hand grasping his hip for balance. It was arguably the most domestically affectionate they’d been, in the Hub at least. But (despite the circumstances), it was nice, comfortable. And, it sent a pleasurable thrill through their Link.

“Yeah, this is ‘The Wolf’,” Ianto murmured, leaning back into Jack’s soft hold. The other man smiled, a low, playful chuckle escaping his lips.

“You wanna go bar hopping in disguise?” he teased, pressing a light kiss to his neck, which caused Ianto to giggle. The mood was lifted considerably and it sent a certain brightness through their Link. 

“You just want to see me in tight jeans,” Ianto replied, giggling. Their fingers intertwined behind Ianto’s back and they smiled at one another for a few more moments before Toshiko made a loud cooing noise - at the same time Owen voiced an exaggerated gagging sound.

“As adorable as Tosh thinks that you are, you’re a hinderance to my work ethic,” Owen said, an aggravation in his gaze. It wasn’t usually how he looked at Ianto and Jack together and the pair’s concern was evident on both of their faces.

Owen sighed. “I’ve put Gwen in the interrogation room, and...I know you said there’s really nowhere else secure we can put her, but she already looks like she’d gonna try and do a little questioning herself.”

Jack groaned loudly, dropping his head to Ianto’s shoulder in exhaustion. He was so sick of Gwen constantly trying to take charge, but he couldn’t change it now. The interrogation room really was the only option, however. He’d have sent Gwen home already, but they did need to make sure she wasn’t affected by the glove (though he was beginning to not believe her).

“We can’t change that. Once we’ve found and offered protection to Lucy, or find Mark, Ianto can check over her mind properly.”

Owen nodded. “How many people do you want out there?” His voice lowered so that Toshiko couldn’t hear. “I don’t really want Toshiko in the Hub alone with Suzie. I wouldn’t mind staying here. And Toshiko hasn’t been in the field since Mary - I think she feels like she isn’t being trusted.”

It was surprising insight for the medic, but it also wasn’t unappreciated. Jack hummed under his breath in consideration. “I’d have either of you out in the field. But, it’s true, she hasn’t been anywhere but the Hub since Mary. You’re sure you don’t mind staying here?”

Owen nodded again. “I’m sure.”

Jack spun on his heel, a bright smile decorating his face. “Tosh! How punk do you think you can act?”

Toshiko looked pretty terrified.


	7. Ianto Deserves Better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi
> 
> enjoy
> 
> this is pretty gay
> 
> i'm pretty gay
> 
> k bye

Ianto could appreciate the aesthetics of at least seventy writhing, rolling bodies tightly packed in one red-tinted room, he really could - but that didn’t stop the smell of sweat, metal and alcohol from clouding his vision. He could sense a couple of looks thrown his way and squirmed uncomfortably. Jack had forewent the idea of disguise and they all stuck out like sore thumbs. 

Still, some of the glances were more predatory, more sexual and Ianto (although he would never admit it) relished the attention. There may have even been somebody there that he liked himself, but he couldn’t really spare the time to think about as Jack swished past him and their Link flared with jealous possessiveness. He’d obviously picked up on what he was thinking. 

“Cover the exits,” he muttered into his comms, voice low in Ianto’s ear. Toshiko went to do just that, standing by the front entrance, whilst Ianto started making his way to the back. His demeanour had somewhat shifted, adopting the guarded appearance of many of the patrons tonight. He would have fit in well, if he wasn’t in a suit and had been shifted to his Gifted form.

“Any sign of Max? Or Lucy McKenzie?” Ianto asked into his comms.

“Nothing yet. Keep moving around,” Suzie replied, which caused Ianto to wince. It was admittedly the only way that they could figure out if Lucy and Mark were at the bar, but it didn’t mean that he had to like the conditions. 

“Keep alert, people. To repeat: Max is described in his forties, six three, six four. Stocky, short dark hair, tattoos on his left arm,” Jack repeated for what had to be the fifth time. Ianto rolled his eyes fondly - it was both annoying and endearing how worried Jack was about the safety of his team. 

“Narrows it down,” Owen quipped and then gasped sharply. “Okay, I’ve got a match on that guy. Max. Jack, he was in your sights just a moment ago.”

“Where is he?” Jack asked, hand immediately going to the stun gun he had in the holster he had hidden by his great coat. It was simply a precaution and Toshiko had forewent equipping one, seeing as she was mainly acting as the guard, but it did make him feel a bit safer. 

“North west bar, chatting to some other bloke.”

Jack turned to focus on the suspect, shuffling closer so that Suzie could get a better look. Wildly moving arms and bobbing heads were in his line of sight, though, so he instead simply swore under his breath, trying to find some other way around. 

He would have continued along this path had ‘Max’ not left the bar with a dark-looking grin. Jack narrowed his eyes and looked to where ‘Max’ was clearly heading to see...Lucy McKenzie. This had to be their guy. 

He didn’t seem too vicious - very much like a teddy bear, actually - when Jack tackled him, even going as far to apologise to the immortal. Jack felt a flicker of confusion before a loud yell blasted his eardrum and his blood froze in his veins. 

“Ianto, behind you!”

Through the pack of people on the dancefloor, Jack could make out the dark body of a black-clad man lurking behind Ianto. The dangerous glint of a blade gleamed in the overhead lights and Jack, not sparing a second glance at the man on the ground before him, sprung up, trying to force his way through the obviously underage teens on the floor.

But, he already knew that he’d be too late. The knife was coming closer to Ianto and he’d only just registered it. He wasn’t going to be in time to save Ianto.

It seemed that one second Ianto was on the brink of death and the next he had Max writhing on the ground under the jolt of a stun gun. Blue curled around his fingers, wisping away once Ianto had regained control of his natural magic. 

“Ianto? You okay?”

Ianto, panting sharply, nodded once, allowing Jack to tug at his hand, soothing out the sparks of magic that gave away his Gifted power. His eyes flickered for a moment before Ianto relaxed - Jack had leant down already to pull Max up, his hands cuffed behind him. 

Toshiko had appeared by Ianto’s shoulder, sliding her arm around Ianto’s to tug the shell-shocked telepath away. They were out of the club and in the SUV before Ianto sort of came back to himself. He was still silent during the ride back to the Hub, which caused Jack to worry more than usual. 

In less than five minutes, Max was in their cells - he was surprisingly silent, scarily so, even - and they’d already begun to interrogate him. Owen stayed in the cells with him, continuing to question him (they hadn’t quite yet found something to allude to the fact he was a murderer other than the evidence beforehand).

Jack, meanwhile, had pulled Ianto into his office and wrapped him in a tight, warm embrace. Melting into the hold, Ianto burrowed his head against Jack’s shoulder, breathing slowing as he calmed. He hadn’t quite realised how shocked and rather terrified he had been at the club when Max had come up behind him. 

“We should probably check up on everyone’s self defence, you know,” Ianto murmured into Jack’s neck. The immortal hummed slightly, stroking his hand slowly through Ianto’s hair. 

“What happened out there, Ianto?” Jack asked, and Ianto shifted nervously in his hold, unsure if Jack had seen him use his magic. 

“Max was behind me, and...I-I-I couldn’t, I couldn’t...I wasn’t able to register it in time and my natural magic kicked in,” Ianto stuttered, not even able to figure out what had happened himself. Jack seemed just as confused as he felt. 

“Jack, I could have killed him,” Ianto whispered and Jack felt his heart shatter in two. THe pain and fear in Ianto’s eyes, fear of himself was something that Jack had never wanted to see on the face of the man he loved. Because he did love Ianto. 

“You wouldn’t, Ianto. You’d never - if it’s truly as you say it is, if what you did use was your natural magic, something so ultimately and purely you, it would never kill anyone. Never hurt someone too much. Because you’re too good. Too kind, too loving.”

Ianto opened his mouth, about to disagree when Jack bent down again, pressing their mouths together. Warmth spread across his body from the point that his lips met Ianto’s. When they parted, Ianto’s eyes were half-lidded and his jaw was slackened. He looked relaxed, more than he had been, as least. 

“Jack! And, er, Ianto...hey,” Owen called out, interrupting them. It wasn’t often he’d see them in such an intimate position, and although he didn’t mind them, Owen still faltered for a moment before continuing to speak. Ianto glanced at Jack once, a strange look in his eyes, and then pushed away, attempting some semblance of professionalism.

“I found something about Max.”

Jack waited, gesturing expectantly when Owen did follow through immediately. “Yeah, well...you might want to see for yourself.”

-

“Your name is Max Trisillian. Can you confirm that? You live at 106 Endeavour Terrace, is that right? Parents Sandra and Dave? Yeah…” Owen sighed, noticing the mixture of confusion and exasperation on Jack and Ianto’s face.

“You're inside the Torchwood facility.”

The effect was instantaneous; Max reared up, an ugly snarl on his face, pounding on the glass and yelling. Ianto flinched in surprise, the rage on Max’s features making him uncomfortable. He was about to leave when Max stopped just as suddenly as he had started. 

“And five, six, keep watching, as soon as you reach ten. Just stops dead. If this is a drug induced psychosis, it's a very specific one,” Owen murmured. 

“Like he reacts to the word… Torchwood,” Jack added and Max started roaring furiously again. Jack had done it both as a way to try and lighten Owen’s obviously sour mood with some light banter and also to test the theory that it was indeed ‘Torchwood’ that was the word causing the outbursts. 

“Thanks, Jack,” Owen muttered, but he did seem slightly more amused than earlier. He was, of course, still upset that he hadn’t yet found a way to help Max, but his urge to be a doctor conflicted with the fact Max was a murderer, whether he was in control or not.

 

“If this is caused by retcon, we’ve got a lot more issues than just Suzie and these murders,” Ianto sighed, folding his arms protectively over his chest as Max screamed once more and then sat down again, completely blank. 

“Yeah...let me know what the scan says, Owen,” Jack said, about to leave when Owen stopped him again.

“What about Suzie, what are you going to do with her?”

Jack paused, thinking for a moment, before he realised he really didn’t want to. “No idea. What do you think?”

“You’re the boss,” Owen replied and Jack nodded, understanding how lost Owen was as well as himself. Ianto followed him out, shaking his head in fond exasperation as Jack yelled out ‘Torchwood’ one last time.


	8. Death By Torchwood (and also Janto feels)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took so long to write, i've been procrastinating so hard, but i made it longer than usual to try and compensate, i hope you like it :))
> 
> the next fic will be a date between ianto and jack, it's gonna be the fluffiest, softest shit you've ever read, you will get a sugar overload from how sweet it's gonna be
> 
> it's mainly to make up for the fact that in the next two or three fics imma put janto through hell, you'll cry, i'll cry, my motivation is fuelled by your tears (and comments, so thanks for everyone commenting, you guys are awesome)
> 
> (also, i didn't proofread this, sue me)

Toshiko was invested in her work, typing at her laptop across from Ianto in the conference room. There was a dullness to the telepath’s gaze that she was worried about, but Tosh knew from the way he was so guarded that he wouldn’t answer any of her questions about it. It was clear, however, to her, that it was something about the magic, the dangerous magic that he had used in the club.

She opened her mouth, encouraged by Ianto’s more relaxed body to ask, when Jack’s voice boomed over the intercom. “Toshiko, where the hell are Suzie and Gwen?”

Confused, she answered but Jack shot her down, irritated now. Suzie and Gwen had been quiet for some time now, which was so unlike Gwen that Tosh berated herself for not realising they were gone earlier. 

Ianto left, breath caught in his throat as he went downstairs to the main Hub. Jack was pacing, appearing out of his office with gun in hand. “Whoa!” Ianto cried, recoiling at the sight of the pistol pointed almost right at him as he collided with Jack. Hands grabbed at his shoulders, steadying him as he stumbled over his partner, not having seen Jack when he strode out. 

“You have...your gun out. For which particular reason?”

Jack glanced almost guiltily down at the pistol in his hand, hiding it in the belt of his trousers where it usually resided. “Suzie had to die again. I decided it was me that I was to do it.”

“And what, you decided that all on your own? Jack, we’re a team. I get that you blame yourself for these murders, for not seeing the connection sooner and everything, but we make these types of decisions together,” Ianto replied, upset that Jack hadn’t asked him, or the others, what they were going to do.

Jack looked as scolded as Ianto had hoped, considering he didn’t want Jack ever choosing those options on his own. “Owen was checking over Suzie and Gwen’s medical records, running them through the Fillmore filter. Judging by the energy transference, Gwen is slowly dying and Suzie is taking her life force. It was either Suzie or Gwen and Suzie...she’s already dead, really. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you, or Tosh. I just didn’t want to force you into that decision,” Jack explained, restless in a way that made him seem insincere even though Ianto knew that the fidgeting was caused by Jack’s urge to find Suzie and Gwen.

“Jack! I think I’ve found them,” Toshiko called out, racing down from the conference room with her laptop in hand. It was a bulky thing that usually held up pretty well under technical stress, so the scanning of the CCTV cameras wasn’t any trouble. 

“What’s going on? Where’ve they gone?” Owen shouted, appearing from the autopsy bay, turning the small gathering into a bit of a crowd. Ianto stepped back slightly, barely able to see Toshiko’s computer from where he was standing. 

“What the hell is she doing?” Owen wondered out loud, watching on screen the replay of Gwen rolling Suzie in her wheelchair to her car and climbing in herself. 

“Getting herself fired,” Jack muttered and Ianto couldn’t help but feel a spark of hope in his chest. He knew that Jack probably wouldn’t ever go as far to completely retcon Gwen. 

“How stupid is that, thinking they could just drive off?” Owen asked, leaning back on his heels as he watched the repeat of the camera footage. There was a distinctly betrayed look on his face that he was trying to keep covered, although it wasn’t really working.

“Come on, let’s go get them,” Jack sighed, turning on his heel to walk out of the Hub, his strides long and purposeful. Ianto was about to follow when the lights suddenly shut down, bathing the Hub in darkness - at the same time, every door in the Hub slammed closed, trapping them all inside. 

“What the hell?” Jack yelled, squinting as he tried to make out his teammate’s bodies in the darkness, assessing the damage the sudden blackout might had caused. He panicked slightly when he couldn’t see Ianto, tensing suddenly as if he’d been hit when he noticed how dormant their shared Link was. “Ianto? Ianto!”

“I’m here, Jack,” Ianto murmured, soothing the alarm Jack must have been feeling. He conjured, with quite a bit of concentration, a small orb of light in his palm, illuminating a few square metres of the Hub, just enough so that they could see one another clearly. 

“Tosh, do we know what’s going on?”

“It’s a lockdown, but none of us have triggered it. It’s not possible it’s a malfunction either, me and Ianto check our systems every week to make sure they still work,” Tosh murmured, distracted as she tapped away on her laptop, trying to find the cause of the loss of electricity and locked doors.

“Jesus...how many hours does Gwen have before she dies?” Jack asked Owen, as concerned as he was irritated at the Welshwoman. 

“Two hours, maybe less. Ianto?” Owen glanced at the telepath, knowing that he would have some idea of the woman’s condition judging simply from their Link, despite how weak it actually was. The Gifted paused, eyes closing as he focussed, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. 

“Yes. Yes, about two hours, but it might come on quickly. She’s fatigued, but that’s all I can really tell. If we can’t find a way out of here, she could die, and quickly too.”

“Think, if Suzie did set up the lock down, how exactly did she do it?” Toshiko asked, chewing her bottom lip in concentration as she tried hacking through the system override. Jack folded his arms, swearing under his breath as he watched his team bounce theories off one another, absently proud of how quickly they could adapt to a situation.

“Entered an override?”

“No,” Tosh answered, “she’s officially dead. The computer wouldn’t give her access.” The young woman leant back in her chair, aggravated at the sudden technological problem that she just couldn’t fix. “There's got to be an answer. Suzie couldn't physically start the lockdown. Programme wouldn't have let her, but there's no one else.”

Realisation dawned on Jack a split second after it did for Ianto. They’d been focussing on the wrong person. They were sprinting to the cells, there in less than a minute, with Owen stumbling after them, albeit more confused. 

Max sat, cross-legged in his cell, eyes rolled to the back of his head. “-and immortality, because I could not stop for death, he kindly stopped for me-” the man repeated, over and over again, as if possessed. Ianto felt a chill go through his body, both at the words of the poem and the way in which Max was reciting them. 

“Is that a poem?” Owen asked, pausing behind Ianto and Jack, staring into the cell. It felt strange to be standing above Max, to be above Max, a man incapable of making his own decisions.

 

“Emily Dickinson. Suzie always had one of her books on her desk,” Ianto murmured absentmindedly. Sighing, he glanced away from Max, who had started rocking slowly, eyes opening - they were filled with a manic fear.

“It's a verbal trigger. Say it out loud and maybe repeat it a hundred times over and the hub locks down.” 

“If that's part of the system then Suzie must have installed a vocal command programme way back…” Owen muttered, swearing silently under his breath as he registered the extent of what Suzie had done. 

“Back when she was alive, yeah. Max is just a Trojan horse. Suzie planned this right from the start,” Jack grit out, frustrated now more than he was worried for Gwen and for Suzie. Gwen had put everyone in danger, as per usual. 

They left the cell, Jack’s steps long and angry, his face set in a tight grimace. Ianto didn’t even dare to try and comfort him telepathically, knowing that it would do no good. Jack was furious, and although a dark place of him was sickly satisfied that it was Gwen that he was so aggravated at.

“You see; Max, the retcon, everything… it's all been a hoax to get us to resurrect Suzie. God, I should have kept a closer eye on Gwen!”

 

“It wasn’t your fault, Jack. Suzie can be quite...persuasive,” Owen said, alluding to the fact that it was Suzie who had actually brought up them sleeping together at first. “So, she gave Max a whole complex of subconscious triggers?”

“Like, she dies, and then Max becomes a time bomb. She disappears for three months and wham! The orders kick in. He follows Suzie's program and starts killing,” Toshiko mused out loud, a strange, disgusted admiration in her voice. It was quite impressive the extent of Suzie’s intelligent plan - she had been a great asset, and it was a shame that she had chosen the wrong path. 

“And we’re forced to bring Suzie back.”

“Then, she escapes,” Toshiko finished, the two going back and forth as they explained exactly how Suzie had planned the deceit. Owen hummed in response, speaking outwardly about his morbid appreciation of the well-thought out plan. Despite sharing his fascination, Ianto was disappointed that Owen had brought it up. 

“If she could lockdown the hub, she must have installed a way of reversing it just in case,” Toshiko said and Ianto hummed in agreement. Perhaps it had something to do with the poem that Max was mindlessly repeating, but even so, they didn’t have access to the actual book itself, nor the internet, so the notion of connection wouldn’t help. 

“Toshiko, keep trying to get past the lockdown, Ianto, I need you to see if you could use your magic to reverse it as well. Owen and I will tackle the issue of Max - there has to be something we can glean from the poem that could lead to the reverse of the lockdown,” Jack ordered, disappearing with Owen down into the cells once more. 

“If I used the water tower as a relay, do you think I could get reception on my phone?” Ianto wondered aloud, pleased at the brilliant grin on Toshiko’s face. Her approval was what he had desired, seeing as he was a master of elements and minds, and she was the expert on tech and machinery. 

It wasn’t easy to dismantle his phone and mess around with the wiring and toggles at the back, testing every few moments to see if he’d had any success, but Ianto persisted, finally gaining connection (although it was a bit of a shit connection) just before Jack and Owen arrived back. They didn’t look as if they’d been as victorious as Ianto.

“Nothing new for me. Suzie really worked hard on these firewalls. She was good at computers, good at everything,” Tosh muttered, upset that although it was her profession, she couldn’t get past Suzie’s defences. 

“Good at murder and deceit, too, Tosh. Much rather have someone like you on our team,” Owen said, easily picking up on Toshiko’s lack of confidence in her own abilities seeing Suzie’s work laid out on front of her. It sent a warm buzz up Ianto’s spine to see their friendship blossom. 

“Owen’s right, Tosh, you deserve to be here. Still, there’s nothing in the actual poem, and nothing that I could remember about Suzie that could override the lockdown. Ianto?” Jack reassured Toshiko, smile warm, but Ianto could see the beginnings of a more dangerous type of anger stirring in his eyes. Some good news would hopefully fix that.

“We’ve gotten reception. Used the water tower as a relay,” Ianto said, with a small quirk in his lips. He’d subconsciously included all of them in the victory, which helped more than one would think. 

Jack’s grin was large and white and dazzling, reminding Ianto of the one Jack had given him before their date, that seemed, now, so very long ago. He hoped after this mess cleared up that they could finish a night in a more amicable way. 

“Nice work, Yan...but who the hell do we call?” Jack praised, taking the phone from Ianto. 

“Kathy Swanson. She’s leading the case on the police end, so we don’t have to keep out as many details. Plus, she has the resources that we may need,” Ianto replied quickly, not a shadow of a doubt in his decision. He’d been thinking about it all throughout his time rewiring the phone. 

Jack had no trouble navigating his way through Ianto’s contacts, ringing Swanson before he had even realised what he was going to say, how the hell he was going to explain this situation. “You better not be wasting my time!” Swanson grunted once Jack had gotten past the other police officer on the phone. 

“As a matter of fact, I was wondering if you could do us a favour,” Jack smiled, but his seductive charms didn’t seem to work too well on Kathy. Ianto rolled his eyes at Jack’s meagre attempt. He had never been very good at liaising with the police - or anyone, for that matter. 

“What, the humble police helping the mighty Torchwood? why don't you help yourselves like you normally do?” Kathy asked, disdain evident in her tone. 

 

“Because we can’t.”

“Why’s that?” 

“We’re sorta...busy.”

The vague, dishonest answers were getting on Swanson’s nerves, and Ianto couldn’t blame her for almost hanging up. Perhaps it had been a mistake to allow Jack to talk. “No! No, no, no, no! It’s just, you see, we can’t because...well, it’s hard to explain, but-”

“Put Jones on,” the detective grit out, sick of Jack’s rambling. The immortal seemed relieved, if a bit irritated when he handed over Ianto’s phone once more to it’s rightful owner. Kathy always worked better with the Welshman, but he couldn’t help but feel a tad bit jealous at the easy way the two could speak, professionally or otherwise. 

“Detective Swanson, I know you’ll want this on record, so feel free to gather your team around the phone,” Ianto began, understanding that he still had to be short with his answers about where Gwen was and the danger she was in. Saying this, the simple order, was enough for Swanson to snap into action, a shuffling of feet signalling her team gathering around her desk. It only took a few seconds. 

“We’re locked in.”

“Locked in where?”

“In our own base.”

A chorus of hysterical laughter followed, continuing on for more time than Ianto had to spare. Still, he’d wanted to have a bit of fun, and Jack didn’t seem opposed to it considering the way he audibly appraised Ianto’s easy smile and control he seemed to have over what the officers were doing, despite being the one asking for help.

“How exactly do you need our help?” Kathy giggled, the laughter growing uproarious when Ianto explained about the book of poetry. It was insanely lucky that one of the officers on duty actually had a copy of the book that they were looking for, the complete edition of Emily Dickinson’s poems. 

“Listen, Detective, one of my team-mate’s is in danger. Do you have the book out?” At Kathy’s affirmation, Ianto continued, moving closer to the rest of his team so that they could hear better. “Find ‘I Could Not Stop For Death’, and read out the next verse for me.”

“What if that doesn’t override your lockdown?” Trust Kathy Swanson to figure out the dilemma without Ianto telling her. There was a reason she was a detective. 

“Read out the whole book?” Ianto said, phrasing it as a question, having predicted Kathy’s loud groan and silent plea for one of her co-workers to get her more coffee. 

“I hope you understand that you will have to repay me by telling me this entire story, Jones, and a thermos of some of your famous coffee,” Swanson murmured over the flipping of book pages. 

“Of course,” Ianto replied, then, after a brief pause,” You know I’m never going to tell you, right?”

“Maybe I just want an excuse to drink coffee with you, Jones. And the story of how you didn’t fall under Harkness’ charm, considering everyone else in the city seems to have,” Kathy muttered, causing Ianto to smile slightly. Detective Swanson was a wonderful woman, and he’d been looking forward to getting to know her outside of cases - not romantically, of course, and Kathy definitely didn’t seem to be implying that. 

Jack seemed less happy at the idea of his partner and the ill-mannered (to him, at least) detective having coffee together. And also the fact that Ianto hadn’t seemed to even think about correcting Kathy - the last he had checked, Ianto had long since fallen under Jack’s charms (and Jack under Ianto’s, but the immortal would almost always insist that it was Ianto enduring the heavy-duty seduction). 

“Aha! Got it!” Kathy read out the lines following the ones that Max had been reciting but as the computer speakers picked them up and nothing happened, it proved that it was the wrong approach. 

They had started reading out lines from the beginning of the book and were half way through the fifth poem when Jack started getting impatient. By the ninth, he was pacing. Once the sixteenth poem rolled around and none of the lines had worked, Jack spoke up.

“Owen, how long does Gwen have, approximately?”

 

Owen didn’t look like he wanted to wanted to answer, but Jack’s hard stare forced him to. “I’d estimate an hour, fifty minutes maybe. But, she could have longer, Jack, I wouldn’t know unless I was there with her,” Owen replied, keeping his tone low, attempting to relax his captain. It didn’t work. 

“Wait a minute - just had a thought. If words cause the lockdown, maybe numbers reverse it. Try the ISBN; every book's got a different number,” Toshiko said suddenly, an interruption that Ianto was all too glad for. There was a new light of hope in Jack’s eyes. 

“Just a moment, I’m looking,” Swanson murmured softly from over the phone, her voice like honey. Ianto was glad that it was her on the other line, rather than the gravelly toned receptionist he often had to bypass when participating in phone meetings with Kathy. 

“The keyboards aren’t working though,” Jack muttered to Tosh, who had her slender fingers poised diligently over her computer. She shook her head.

“But the membrane of it underneath might just recognise the code.”

“Okay, I’ve got it! ISBN, 019-8600-595. Did that-”

Kathy hadn’t even finished her sentence before Toshiko had smashed the numbers in and the Hub was filled with light that wasn’t radiating from Ianto’s palm. He quickly closed down the link of magic he had accessed to control the orb of light, thanking Kathy hurriedly before following Jack’s order to move.

Toshiko stayed behind in the Hub, tracking Gwen’s car with the tech she’d hidden in there once Gwen had started working. “Jack, they’re at a hospital. Sending you the coordinates now.”

“On our way. Owen, how long do you think Gwen has?”

“Forty minutes, I would say,” Owen answered, hesitating for a moment before turning in his chair to face Ianto, who was in the back seat. “Ianto, you have a Link with Gwen. Would you be able to get a more accurate reading?”

There was a split second that Ianto was aware of Jack loudly protesting before he delved into his own mind, seeking out the rarely used Link with Gwen. It was pulsing, red and angry, and Ianto probably should have thought twice before accessing it. 

The pain was excruciating - it felt like the back of Ianto’s head was being torn open and a sudden weariness set in on his bones, face draining of colour. An image of Suzie standing above a hospital bed, the terrified face of her father as she leant down, his convulsions as she roughly slid the respirator out of his mouth. Blood on Gwen’s hand. The elongated, screeching beep of the heart monitor. 

Then, Jack’s yelling. Owen’s hand over his neck, checking his erratic pulse, frantically going through the motions of trying to make sure he was alright. Ianto’s vision swam, both with exhaustion and with pain, which wasn’t helped by the way the SUV was swerving. 

“Eyes on the road, Jack,” Ianto slurred, registering the way he was hunched over his knees, only able to make out Jack’s white knuckles on the wheel and his tense shoulders. 

“Ianto, what’s going on?” Owen asked, voice commanding an answer.

“Gwen might not have forty minutes. She’s experiencing being shot in the head, slowly. I’m just feeling the repercussions of it, because I accessed our Link when she was in such bad pain,” Ianto mumbled, deeply concerned for the young woman. Despite their differences, Gwen certainly didn’t deserve to die.

“Can’t I take some of your pain? Using our Link?” Jack asked, torn between his anxiety for Gwen, who was indeed dying, and Ianto, who was writhing in agony in the back seat. He knew that he could save them both if he saved Gwen, but it broke him to seem to prioritise Gwen, again. 

“No! No, no, Jack, keep driving. I can handle this,” Ianto refused sharply. It wasn’t only that he didn’t want Jack in pain, but also because this new element in their Link - or whatever it had become, Ianto was having a hard time figuring it out right now - was something precious and Ianto didn’t want their first access of it to be filled with pain and death.

“Shit! They’re moving again, Jack, but I can’t get an exact location yet. Owen, how’s Ianto?” Toshiko’s barely concealed terror came through on their comms. Owen reassured her in some way that Ianto was going to be fine, insisting she focus on figuring out where the hell Suzie and Gwen were. 

Ianto didn’t catch much of Jack’s phone conversation, too busy wrapped up, once again, in Gwen’s mind and suffering, but he assumed correctly that it was Suzie talking to him. “Tosh, do you know where they are?” he snapped once he’d been hung up on, shaking visibly with a cocktail of aggravated concern and boiling anger.

“I’m sorry, Jack, give me a few more minutes. I’ve almost got it,” Toshiko said, frantic.

“Hedley Point...s’got a ferry, going to the islands,” Ianto breathed out, shuddering with the effort of speaking. He’d have recovered from delving into Gwen’s mind had he only done it the once, but he had dipped back in, finding Gwen’s location with a little help from the information he already had about their whereabouts - now, although they were closer to finding Gwen and ending all of this, Ianto felt ten times worse. Ten times weaker.

“You tracked her? Ianto, you can’t deal with that right now! Don’t put yourself in danger, not again,” Jack scolded, but he took use of the information, speeding up and skidding down into a street, then another and another, leading down onto the coastline. 

The tyres of the SUV screeched as they rounded the corner, slamming to a halt in full view of Suzie bending over a collapsed Gwen. A blur of sound and colour and feeling washed over Ianto, feeling like it lasted a split second, but had probably dragged on a lot longer. Several gunshots that Ianto would have a whale of a time explaining later on blared into the crisp, early dawn air. Red painted the inside of Ianto’s eyelids as Gwen’s heart stopped, his own fluttering in his chest.

And then, a sudden jolt of blue and fierce breath from Gwen and Ianto as the glove was destroyed and Suzie dropped, dead once more, to the rocky ground. A police car arrived, two officers jumping out and racing towards their team, but they all were too relieved to care much. Everything was once again the way it should have been.

-

Suzie was dead. Ianto had checked, multiple times, the ordinary way and with his magic, even though he knew Jack would berate him for using his powers so soon. 

Gwen was safe, breathing normal, heart rate steady. Alive. 

Owen and Toshiko were okay, too, although they’d been served a bit of a shock to the system, having two of their team-mates die on them in one day. Tosh had been magnificent, shooting the glove dead on, the smouldering remains of the tech safely in the most hidden depths of the Secure Archives. 

And Jack...well, Jack was how he usually was, settling into the typical bravado once he knew everyone on his team were safe. He’d given Gwen a week’s medical leave, which served more, really, as a suspension - he hadn’t asked for any brain scans or mental tests to be done to figure out if the glove actually had affected her actions. Jack, and everyone else, wanted to put the case as far behind them as possible. 

The only thing left to do was finish up the paperwork for Suzie’s (second) death. Ianto had insisted on doing it, despite it usually being Jack’s job, because he knew that Jack still blamed himself for everything that happened that day. 

“One day, we are going to run out of space,” Jack muttered, causing Ianto to glance up from his paperwork. Jack was leaning against the mortuary walls, glaring down at Suzie’s body. His gaze turned upwards and softened once Ianto silently completed the papers and slid the door of the freezer decidedly shut.

“How are you, Ianto? Really?” Jack asked, his voice so soft and tender that Ianto wanted to cry.

“I...I’m okay. Not in pain, just a bit achey, if that’s what you mean,” Ianto sighed, exhausted from the day. Jack entwined their fingers together in silent support, guiding them away from the mortuary.

“I was going to send the others home now, let them all take half a day off. They deserve it - and that means you too, so no sneaking in to do extra work,” Jack teased, squeezing their hands together. Ianto barely heard his words, turning to him abruptly.

“Let me make you dinner.”

Jack paused, then nodded. “Our date was cut a little short last time. You can cook?”

“Very well. I could make you something traditional, from my clan,” Ianto smiled, arms skimming down Jack’s arms, mapping out every tendon and muscle that he could feel. Jack blushed slightly, an achievement and a half for Ianto; the immortal wasn’t used to such a brash side of his boyfriend.

“You’re not usually so forward. Not that I’m complaining, of course,” Jack purred, breath hitching a little as Ianto slid closer, pulling Jack forward by the waist.

“Life is fleeting. I don’t want to waste a second without you,” Ianto whispered against Jack’s lips just before they met, the kiss that they shared full of sweet promises for their life ahead.


End file.
